


The Bunker

by PrettyMessedUpSituation (MarcelinesNightosphere)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alley Blow Jobs, Anti-Possession Tattoos, Bottom Dean, Canon Related, Castiel in the Bunker, Dean-Centric, Eventual Happy Ending, Fallen Angels, Fluff and Smut, Human Castiel, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Shower Sex, Sigils, Some Humor, Tattoos, because happy endings are necessary sometimes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-29 16:14:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcelinesNightosphere/pseuds/PrettyMessedUpSituation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, the Winchesters wait for Cas who should have been there by now. When he arrives, he isn't alone. Worried about the unknown state of things, everyone hunkers down to wait and see what their next move should be. Thanks to some scheming by Charlie, Dean and Cas are forced to talk about their feelings for each other. After an illuminating night, Cas and Dean are caught up in exploring their relationship and finding out just who the angel is residing in Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home Again

                Dean kicked the door shut behind him, his arms full of grocery bags. He followed Sam through the hall and into the main area of the library, where he broke off and headed into the kitchen to set down the bags and put things away. As soon as the bags hit the counter, a thunder of footsteps raced toward the library. Sam and Dean both drew their guns as from around the corner slid Kevin first, wielding a gun of his own, then Charlie. Sam lowered his weapon and Dean made a face of annoyance before putting his away. Charlie rolled her eyes and tucked hers in her side holster.

                “Where the hell have you guys been? What the fuck has been happening?” Kevin screamed.

                “Have you seen this shit about the meteor showers? We knew it had to have been something to do with you guys, because, duh,” Charlie rambled. “But we hadn’t heard anything from you for a few days so we started to worry but here you are! Yay!” She hugged Sam and then Dean, who had sauntered into the library to meet them.

                “Shit’s been interesting, that’s for sure,” Dean said, giving a sideways glance to Sam. Charlie catches it and gives him the ‘ _we’ll talk later’_ look.

                “You guys look like hell. Especially you,” Kevin said to Sam.

                “Yeah, I, uh, wasn’t feeling too hot there for a few days, but things are doing okay now. I think.”

                “He just needs some rest,” Dean added, clapping his brother on the back, “and not in a car. Right Sammy?”

                “Right. So Charlie, when did you get here?”

                “Well like I said, I saw the _meteor shower_ ,” she began, using quote fingers, “and obviously anything that looks like the end of the world is your kind of thing, so I came. I thought maybe you guys would be here, or be here as soon as you could. Barring anyone being sent to Hell or Purgatory or whatever.”

                “Yeah, someone was banging at the door, which flipped me the fuck out because I didn’t know what was happening. I’d been in the war room wondering what the fuck I was supposed to do for days. I didn’t know who was alive and who might be after me, and I sure as hell didn’t want anyone finding the bunker so when I heard the banging – “

                “You’d be proud. He held out for an hour of me talking to him through the door, telling him who I was, that I’d _been here before_ , how no one had followed me – even did the TSA pat down Winchester style, silver knife and all before even letting me past the door.”

                “That’s our prophet,” Dean said, smiling at Kevin who still looked mildly annoyed. “What?”

                Kevin stood with his arms crossed looking terse. “What the fuck _happened_?”

                Sam and Dean looked at each other for a moment. The truth of the story was long and complicated, even more so for Dean. Sam nodded at Dean, who took it to mean to keep it simple, but honest. He’d have to leave a few parts out, but gave it a go. He explained the trials, how Metatron tricked Cas and cut out his grace, that all the angels were cast out – some of whom had a personal vendetta against Cas, and that Sam was pretty beat up. Charlie and Kevin listened intently, trying to process each thing as it poured from Dean’s mouth.

                “So where’s Cas now?” Charlie asked.

                “He’s on his way. I told him to come alone, but who knows if he’ll listen,” Dean said, pinching his skin in between his brow with his fingers. “All I know is I’m exhausted, I have a little food, I have alcohol, and I have my bed.” He smiled at the room, hands on his hips, waiting for someone else to bring up a current problem that he didn’t have the energy to deal with.

                “Why would he bring anyone with him? Who’s with him?” Kevin asked.

                “I don’t know,” Dean said, his hands rubbing his face. “There’s an angel BOLO for him. Some are pissed, others are just lost, and he’s guilt tripping himself into getting killed by some pissed off angel sans wings.” The frustration was boiling in his skin, he didn’t know where Cas was and if he was safe – he couldn’t keep him safe until he made it to them at the bunker.

                “So Cas is human. I know it’s shitty, but it’s kind of cool,” Kevin said. “Okay so anyway, good to see you, glad you’re here, I’m going to finally get some sleep and you should too.” He said it to everyone, but for the last part looked directly at Sam who was leaning, putting his weight on the back of a chair.

                “Goodnight guys. Seriously, sleep. You look rough.” Charlie gave them a little wave, and retreated back down the hallway to the extra rooms.

                Sam looked at Dean and nodded before heading off to his room, leaving Dean alone in the library. He stood straight, taking a deep breath, glad to be home. Walking back to the kitchen, he put away the few things that were in his bags and headed to his room. When he flipped on the light, he took it all in – his knives, his vinyl, his bed – and it was the first thing to make him honestly smile since they left.  He hit the lights, fell onto his bed, and eventually knocked out with a stomach full of worry.

                Dean slept well into the next day, and didn’t wake up until the scent of bacon wafted into his room. He took a cool shower to wake him up, and pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a vintage-wash heather gray tee shirt. Taking his time with nowhere to be for once, Dean put on his deodorant and sprayed his shirt with some old cologne that one of the Men of Letters had left behind. He wasn’t sure what it was, but its oaky scent made him feel like he smelled good – classy, even.  Looking in the mirror, he realized he hadn’t shaved since the day after they’d left New York, and he had healthy stubble. He didn’t bother with shaving, or with shoes, because he knew he wasn’t going anywhere. He was sure Sam would fuck with him about it, but couldn’t care. He checked his phone to see if there’d been any word from Cas, but nothing had come through. His heart sank. Not knowing where Cas was ate at him bad. He just hoped he was close.

                As he shuffled down the hall, the scent of food filled the air. It hit his stomach and Dean realized he hadn’t really been eating since Sam tried finishing the trials. The shitty cafeteria food at the hospital and vending machine grub was all he’d really had.  When he made it into the kitchen, Charlie was dancing at the stove with her ear buds in, and Kevin was sitting at the table, his upper body sprawled out across it. Sam sat opposite Kevin, who released a snore. His face was lit up by the laptop in front of him. _What the hell could he be researching now?_ Dean thought.  He walked across the floor that slightly chilled his bare feet, but it was a refreshing feeling.

                “Morning, guys,” he said. Kevin softly snored, Charlie continued to put something together at the stove unaware of his presence, and Sam barely looked up. “Wow, quite the lively crew we have here.” He moved to the fridge, opening it up to find the beer he’d brought in the night before and took one out. Dean leaned against the counter and popped the top off his drink, glancing over at Charlie, who finally realized he was there.

                “Hey, sleeping beauty,” she lilted, pulling one of her ear buds out so she could hear. Loud alt-rock music flowed from the tiny speaker.  “Did you sleep well?”

                “Yeah actually, I did.” Dean took a swig from his beer.

                “I’d say so. I almost sent Kevin in after you, but he fell back asleep, and Sam said not to bother you.”

                Dean furrowed his brow. “What time is it?”

                “Almost two.”

                “In the afternoon?” Dean shot a look at Sam, who didn’t even lift his head in Dean’s direction. “How long was I asleep?” He thought back to when they’d come in. It was dark but it couldn’t have been that late. But he did spend a lot of time in his dark room staring at the ceiling, worrying about Cas.

                “We went to bed around eleven, so you slept for probably twelve hours or so. Sam got a solid nine but could probably use more.” Charlie said this loudly enough for Sam to hear her, even if he wasn’t paying attention. “You needed it, Dean. You look a hundred times better,” Charlie added softly.

                “What are you making?” Dean asked.

                “BLT. Minus the B.”

                “But I smelled bacon,” Dean said, looking like a sad puppy. His mouth watered at the thought of food.

                “In the oven, keeping it warm. Sam made Kevin, himself, and you bacon cheeseburgers for lunch.” Charlie opened the oven and pulled out a plate, handing it to Dean with a smile.  He took it eagerly and returned the grin.

                Dean went over to the table and sat in between Sam and Kevin. With his plate in his right hand, he pushed Kevin’s body away from him with his left arm, making Kevin fall toward his left and yet barely wake up before fast asleep again. He bit down into his cheeseburger and moaned a little. He was so grateful for this burger. Sam looked up at him finally, still weary and worn looking, but much better than four days ago, that was certain. Dean quickly looked down at his plate, swallowing the secret hiding within Sam down with his food.

                Sam cleared his throat. “I’ve, uh, I’ve been tracking Cas from the few phone calls you’ve gotten from him. He was in Colorado, so kind of close, right? Last call was Colorado Springs, and that was two days ago. He could be here any time.”  Dean kept his eyes at his plate while he chewed. “Dean, I know you’re worried. He’s human, he’s vulnerable, he’s…he’s Cas. As long as he at least tries to get here and doesn’t freak out along the way, he should make it just fine.”

                “So I get to meet Cas? Finally!” Charlie said, scooting onto the edge of Kevin’s seat. “I swear this kid needs days of sleep. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks when I got here, and he really hasn’t slept since. I think now that you guys are here he feels protected or something. It’s cute. It’s like you’re his guardian –“

                “Don’t,” both Sam and Dean said at the same time.

                “Oh, right. Yikes. Talk about a faux pas. I wish I had a time-turner about now….” Charlie stood and clapped her hands together. “So, we should party. I mean, for the time being there’s no apocalypse or other kind of world-ending scenario. You guys deserve a night off. Even if we stay here and have a movie marathon and get drunk. Or go play pool in town and do a supply run?” Charlie’s eyes were hopeful. “Come on guys, I need to get out. We need to get out. I mean look at the little prophet guy.” She gestured to Kevin, who was now face-down in a puddle of drool. “Just for a few hours. Then back to basecamp and lockdown until the whole A-Team is back together again.”

                Dean looked at Sam and rolled his eyes toward Charlie. “I think it’s doable. Just a few games, grab some groceries, and back underground at least until I can…until _we_ find Cas. Or he finds us.”

                Charlie looked at Sam and stifled a grin. “Yay! I’m going to do some reading and check in with my peeps online and then get ready for some above ground fun.”

                “Should we put him to bed or something?” Sam asked, looking at Kevin.

                “Yeah at least a couch,” Dean said, “because he’s just going to be hurting if he stays like that.” Sam just stared at him. “Right. Yeah, I got him.” Dean stood and put his plate in the sink before scooping Kevin up and carrying him to his room.  He came back to find Sam powering down the laptop. “Hey listen, why don’t you go watch the back of your eyelids for a while?”

                “Yeah I better. Especially if we’re going out tonight,” he chuckled. “I don’t even remember what it’s like to go shoot some pool for fun.”

                Sam made his way down the hall toward his room. Dean looked around the empty space, his hands clasped behind his head. At this point he was desperate for some normality, even if their version of normal was living in this expansive bunker with a great library, a treasure trove of weapons, and a war room. As long as he had his own room, his kitchen, and his brother, he was going to be just fine.

                “No I’m not,” he said softly aloud to no one.  “Not without Cas.” He paced around the library looking at book titles, his head tilted sideways as he slowly scanned the bindings, some so old he could barely make out any print at all. By the time he’d made his slow path around the library, he wasn’t even reading the titles anymore; he was just stepping softly around the room, his mind elsewhere. Cas should have made it by now. He was close enough that if he hitched a ride, or even stole a car, he’d have been at the bunker. If he was on foot, he would have made it to at least a phone. Something must have happened. What if he was caught up with an angel – or a few? Dean’s mind started to wander, worried about every possible scenario. He pictured Cas huddled in a gutter, soaked from the rain, lost and alone. He pictured him fighting for his life against enemies that used to be his family. He pictured him bleeding, hungry, calling out to Dean for help to no avail.

                Dean walked quickly to Sam’s computer and booted it up. He drummed his fingers on the table while he waited, anxiety taking hold. He stood and grabbed another beer from the fridge, popping the top before returning to his seat. The laptop was finally up and running and he went through Sam’s recent searches. Just maps and number traces. Dean looked at the possible routes he would have taken to lead him directly to Lebanon, but that wasn’t a guarantee. He could have had to travel in any direction or made stops along the way. After a while Dean started to wonder if he should just go and find him, just drive and hope that like magic, like it used to be, Cas would be there on the road.

                Charlie walked quietly to the table, sliding into a seat, watching Dean’s tense face. “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she said quietly. “I mean, obviously, it’s a little scary or whatever, but it’s Cas. He’ll make it.”

                “Yeah, I know. He’ll get here,” Dean said, trying to sound confident. 

“He will.” Charlie studied Dean’s face. “I know how you feel about him. I mean, obvs. But I’m here if you need to vent or have feelings.”

“Feelings? I don’t have _feelings_ ,” he said unconvincingly, shifting in his chair. His discomfort of being called out on emotions was something he was unable to hide or defend, especially from Charlie. “Cas is –“

“If you say ‘family’ I’m going to slap you. I don’t care what Sam or Kevin or anyone else thinks, but I haven’t even seen you two together and I can tell. Whatever it is – epic bromance or more – you love Cas so get over it.”

“Love?” Dean scoffed.  “That’s a, uh, powerful word there, Charlie.”

“Well you have powerful feelings,” she retorted. Dean shot her a terrible look. “I’m just saying. Those feelings you don’t have? I’m here if you need to…unburden yourself. With anything, not just with Cas, of course.”  Dean just stared at her. “You’re my only family, Dean. You and Sam are it. Aside from my throngs of followers and minions of course.” Charlie’s bright smile broke down Dean’s tough exterior, yet again. Her voice softened. “And I hope you know how much that means to me.”

                After a moment of silence, Dean responded. “Yeah, you’re our family too.” A smile escaped from his lips. He looked at his watch. “So, what time do you want to leave?”

                “Well, we could have dinner first. Six, maybe? I know it’s early, but I’m itching to get out of here.” Charlie looked relieved just at the thought. “Kevin’s in the shower. I thought I’d make a list of grocery items to pick up, if you want to help. Or get Sam up.”

                “I’ll wake Sam later. Let’s get started on the list.”

                Dean stood up and started moving through the cabinets, calling out items they needed to Charlie and she wrote them down. Soon they had compiled enough food to last them a month, and Dean went to wake Sam. Dean took Kevin to get groceries while Sam woke up and Charlie got ready. The two of them got into the Impala and drove into town, hitting the grocery store. They split the list and made quick work of it, and within a half hour were back in the car driving back to the bunker. It took two trips to get everything in, and by the time everything was put away, it was time to head back out. The four got into the car and drove back to town. Dean pulled into the local pool hall and they began their night.

                Sam and Kevin ordered food and drinks while Dean and Charlie set up the table. An hour later, everyone looked so much better. Even Kevin was smiling. Sam was kicking Charlie’s ass in darts and Dean was beating Kevin so badly in their second game of pool that he started to fuck up on purpose. At ten they left the pool hall and hit the liquor store, loading up on all their favorites as if they were celebrating the end of the world. Only this time, they were celebrating just because.  The group headed back to the bunker, laughing and making plans to watch bad movies and play a drinking game since Kevin had missed out on that kind of stupid experience that Charlie felt was especially necessary to partake in at least once. While they bickered on which movie it should be, Dean pulled up to the bunker and the Impala’s headlights cast a strange shadow on the stairwell as they passed.

                “What was that?” Sam asked, whipping his head toward the door.

                “I don’t know,” Dean said with a grimace. He parked and turned off the car. “Give me the flashlight,” he said to Sam, who quickly popped the glove box and threw the flashlight to his brother. Dean got out of the car with his gun and flashlight in hand and slowly rounded the car. He walked toward the stairwell until he was about ten feet from the door and raised the flashlight up into the faces of two shadows leaning against the door. They squinted and held their hands up against the blinding light. “Alright,” Dean yelled, “who the fuck are you and what are you doing here?”

As his eyes adjusted, he realized standing next to the stranger was a familiar face.  His eyes welled up and his voice cracked as he spoke. “Cas?”

 

 


	2. Drinking Games

                When Sam reached Dean’s side, his gun lowered. “Cas?”

                “Sam,” Cas said, his throat dry. “Dean. We were hoping you would come soon.”

                “Who’s we?” Sam asked, eying the woman next to Cas.

                “Cas is here?” Charlie asked, running up with Kevin, who was carrying all the bags of liquor.

                Dean moved down the stairs to the door. He grabbed Cas and hugged him. “Took you long enough,” he said through gritted teeth. His eyes were watery, his body released of all the worried tension he’d harbored for nearly a week. He was afraid to let him go, but he released his hold and clapped his back.

                “Guys, let’s get inside. We can talk there,” Kevin said nervously. “Who’s the chick?”

                “This is Isda. She’s…lost,” Cas said.

                Dean pushed past them and unlocked the door. “I told you to come alone.”

                “I…I am sorry,” Isda said. “I do not mean to intrude.”

                “You’re not intruding,” Cas reassured her. “I told you Dean would not be happy.” He followed Dean into the bunker, the others trailing behind him. “She’s lost Dean, that is all. She needed my help. She’s a good person. I trust her.”

                “Well I don’t trust as easy, Cas.” They huddled in the kitchen, Kevin emptying the bags of liquor onto the table. “Cas, this is Charlie, Charlie, Cas.”

                “Hi!” Charlie exclaimed. “So happy to finally meet you. Big fan. How’s being human treating ya?”

                “Well, hunger and thirst are more debilitating than I had thought, and sleep is just…strange. Everything is strange.”  Cas’s voice was scratchy. His clothes were a little ragged and most definitely dirty. He looked as if he’d gotten into a couple scrapes along the way. A cut crossed just under his left eye, over his cheekbone.  His facial hair was scruffy and slightly hid another cut across the right side of his face from the middle of his cheek to his chin. His eyes were almost desperate, but relieved at the same time. His shoulders slumped, with the same kind of relief Dean had upon seeing his friend.

                “I saw Castiel at a gas station. I didn’t know where I was, and I had been walking for days,” Isda explained. She was weary and worn, her brown hair in tangles, her green eyes nearly sunken into her head, dark circles deeply engraved under both. A bruise on her neck gave suggestion that she had been choked. “He was sitting on the curb looking wholly defeated, but I recognized him instantly.”

                “To be completely honest, Isda kept me going. I was afraid she was like the others and it took some convincing for her to gain my trust. But after we were attacked by another, I knew she was truly on my side.” Cas looked gratefully at his companion.

                “Why don’t we get you two cleaned up? Charlie, will you take Isda to get showered, maybe lend her some clothes?” Sam asked.      Charlie nodded. She took Isda by the elbow and smiled meekly at her, obviously affected by her state.

                “Kevin, it’s good to see you,” Cas said, hugging the prophet.

                “You too, Cas. Glad you made it.”

                Dean cleared his throat. “Hey Cas, how about we get you cleaned up too?” Cas looked at Dean and nodded. Cas let Dean lead the way down the hall to his room where he got the water running before he picked some clothes out while Cas showered. He really needed to get some sweat pants or something. All he had were tee shirts, jeans, and cheap suits. Dean made a mental note to expand the wardrobe to include comfortable lounge-about clothes for nights like this. He hadn’t had sweat pants in his drawers since Lisa…but he stopped his mind from going there.  He cracked the door to the bathroom a bit and placed the clothes on the sink. “There are clean clothes for you here whenever you’re done.” He didn’t wait for the thank you before he closed the door.

                The shower turned off, and Dean heard the shower curtain pull back. He left the room and went back into the kitchen where the liquor was. Cas was here. Cas was okay. He could relax now. Kevin was standing at the counter with Sam, pouring drinks and gathering beer bottles.

                “What are you doing?” Dean asked.

                “Oh, the drinking game is still on. We just now have a freshly human Cas and a fallen angel added into the mix,” Kevin answered excitedly. He carried four Solo cups into the library where the projector was set up.

                Sam shrugged. “He’s lightening up, I’m just rolling with it.”

                Dean threw his hands up. “That’s what this frat house needs. A drunk prophet.”

                Charlie and Isda came into the room, Isda looking much better. Her hair was wet and pulled back into a braid, wearing a black shirt that said _I See Muggle People_ and pink flannel pajama pants.  Her arms were covered in bruises as well. Dean’s heart started to soften toward her. He didn’t know her, but she was pretty roughed up and if Cas trusted her this far he should probably trust his friend’s instincts on this one.

                “So what movie are we watching, bitches?” Charlie asked.

                “Indiana Jones,” Kevin answered.

                “Which one?”

                “Raiders.”

                “Sweet.”

                “What’s happening?” Isda asked.

                “Oh, we’re going to watch a movie, and drink whenever certain things happen. You don’t have to, of course.” Charlie smiled protectively over her.

                “Grab the rest of the drinks Dean,” Kevin said.

                Dean rolled his eyes but grabbed what he could and brought them over into the library and went back for his own drink. Sam brought the computer over and got it set up to play the movie. Charlie had rigged it for them to watch movies. Sam poured a glass of water and brought it to Isda. When he returned to the kitchen, Dean gave him a raised eyebrow.

                “Shut up, I’m being nice.”

                “I’m just saying, a little holy communion never hurt anyone,” Dean joked.

                “You’re one to talk. Oh wait, your angel is sans wings these days,” Sam cut back.

                “Shut the fuck up, Sam.”

“You look better!” Charlie said to Cas as he came down the hall.

Dean jerked his head up in the direction of the library. Cas had come out, trudging tiredly. He was wearing the clothes Dean had put out – a pair of jeans that were slightly too big for him and a black Zeppelin shirt, barefoot and scruffy.

“I feel much better,” Cas admitted. He stretched and when he did, his shirt came up, the jeans just hanging from his hipbones.

Charlie looked over at Dean, who was staring a little too obviously. “Hey guys! Let’s get this game started!” She rushed over to the kitchen and playfully punched Dean like a heavy bag. “Your angel-human-manfriend is hella sexy. Not my type, but I can appreciate sexy when I see it and he _has_ it.” She stood hip-to-side with Dean and leaned on him. “Dreamy. I knew it.”

“Shut up.”

“Seriously you should probably call dibs or something before his actual angel friend does.”

“Charlie, she’s traumatized, Cas is at a loss about how to brush his teeth, and you think I’m concerned with them getting laid?”

“I think you’re concerned that Cas might need someone more than you.” Charlie gazed up at Dean with a knowing look. “You can tell people to _‘shut up’_ all you want, it doesn’t make the feelings go away.”

Dean didn’t have anything to say. The feelings building inside him were always cooled by the chaotic world they lived in, always trying to end some sort of disaster. He didn’t have time to dwell on them. It wasn’t like anyone hadn’t noticed the intensity of their relationship. Everyone from Bobby to Balthazar had seen it and had raised an eyebrow or two if not flat out saying it. And Sam, he saw the growing intensity and just rolled with it, even if it annoyed him sometimes. But there was always this thing that separated them; Cas was an Angel of the Lord as he used to say, and Dean was just a human, the intended vessel of Michael.  Hester’s words always rang in Dean’s ears though in times when he thought Cas was lost to him, that Cas was lost to Heaven the moment he plucked Dean from Hell. Those words, intended to be hurtful, were a comfort all the times Cas had left Dean or didn’t come when he called. They instilled a faith in Cas for Dean when things were darkest. He had raised him from Hell and left his mark on Dean in more ways than one. And now the great chasm that had separated them was gone.

Dean watched as they started the movie. Everything about Cas seemed different. He stood with his arms crossed, his shoulders slightly hunched, like he was cold. Dean’s jeans hung off Cas’s body, leaving them baggy in places. He smiled seeing Cas in a Zeppelin shirt. When Cas turned and looked at him, Dean froze. He looked down and straightened up, not knowing how to act toward him now that they were on even ground. Cas padded across the floor toward Dean, his hair a mess from the shower, his eyes tired, but even still as smile on his face that couldn’t help but be returned. His arms still crossed, Cas stopped as he stood facing Dean.

“It is so good to see you,” he gushed with his stupid grin. “It felt like we would never make it here. And then when we did and no one was here, I was worried to say the least.”

“Yeah, I did my fair share of worrying too,” Dean admitted. He stared at the intricacies of Cas’s face. The cuts that didn’t heal, the aging that seemed to happen overnight with all he’d been through. He threw his arms around Cas and hugged him tight. “I’m just glad you’re here now.” Cas slowly put his arms around Dean, and it was as if they were touching for the first time. He buried his head into Dean’s neck and let out a heavy breath of relief. A sensation washed over Dean and he quickly let go of Cas, clapping him yet again on the back as he released him. “Well are you ready to get drunk and watch Raiders?”

“I’m not too sure what that means,” Cas answered.

Dean chuckled. “Some things never change.”

He picked up his drink and threw his arm around Cas, walking with him to sit with the rest of the group.  Sam was engaged in conversation with Isda while Charlie and Kevin were very much into their drinking game.

“Snakes! Drink, bitches!” Charlie yelled, throwing back a shot and then clinking her beer with Kevin as he downed his.

“Whip,” Dean said, knowing what was coming up.

Charlie turned around and pointed at him. “Yes, Dean! Drink!”

Dean smiled and downed what was in his glass and poured another. He took a glass from the center of the table and filled it too, sliding it to Cas. He smiled at Dean and took the drink. This time when Charlie yelled _drink_ , he downed his too.

Two hours later, Isda and Sam were sitting at the far end of the table nearest the kitchen while the other four were sitting at the end letting another movie play on while they played cards. Cas was laughing, which was a good sight to see. He was somehow kicking ass in Presidents and Assholes, using his power to fuck with Dean.  Kevin was faring well, his face flushed and a smile permanently plastered to his face. Charlie was Team Cas, helping him come up with rules. Dean had the raw end of the deal, too many drinks ahead of everyone else. Luckily he had home court advantage in the world of alcohol and everyone else he was with were lightweights. He looked over at Sam and wondered what exactly he and Isda had been talking about this whole time when something brushed his foot. He looked down quickly and then back up at Charlie who had tried to kick him but couldn’t quite reach.  He furrowed his brow.

“We should do a scavenger hunt!” Charlie shouted as the game ended.

“Yes!” Kevin shouted back. “I will win because I have spent too many hours in this place alone.”

“Okay what are we looking for?” Dean asked.

“The rarest thing in the entire bunker,” Charlie said, her eyes sparkling.

Dean raised his hand. “Spear of Destiny. Know where it is. Poked Jesus. I win.” Cas cocked his head to the side in disbelief, but Dean nodded and raised his hand in an oath.

“Okay, something else really rare and one of a kind that didn’t spill the blood of someone on a cross,” Charlie rephrased.  She mouthed ‘ _cheater’_ to him.

Kevin jumped up. “I know a thing!” He took off running down to one of the back storage rooms.

“I know a thing too,” Charlie said, looking suspicious. “But I need help reaching it. Guys, come help,” she pleaded to Cas and Dean. They eyed each other and stood up, following Charlie who was already bounding down to one of the storage rooms. When they got there, Charlie was smiling a little too hard. They were squeezed into one of the smaller storage areas. When Cas and Dean were both inside, Charlie turned and grabbed Dean first and then Cas, slapping handcuffs on them.

“What the fuck, Charlie?” Dean shouted. He raised his wrist which was connected to Cas.

“See I found a thing. A rare thing. And you two are going to stay in the ‘Feelings Closet’ until you’re all caught up,” she said, slowly backing out of the room.

“Wait, Charlie, wait, what are you –“ Dean couldn’t finish before Charlie slammed it shut.

“I’ll be back in an hour!” She shouted through the door as she locked it. “Promise. Setting my alarm. Don’t hate me!” And she was gone.

Dean banged on the door for a minute, shouting for Charlie to come let him out, even using the ‘I have to pee’ excuse, but he knew she wasn’t coming, and wasn’t going to until that alarm went off in an hour. “Come on!” he yelled, hitting the door one last time. His hand tugged. He turned to see Cas rubbing his face. “Are you not upset by this at all?”

“To be honest, Dean, everything lately has been so strange that this feels like normal, if there is such a thing.” Cas tried to cross his arms, but it pulled on Dean’s wrist so he just let his arms fall to his sides. “Obviously we’re stuck in the ‘Feelings Closet’ until Charlie lets us out, so we might as well sit down and catch up.”

Dean rolled his eyes. Both of them sat at the same time, leaning against a cage housing some artifacts. They sat in silence for a while, shoulder to shoulder. Dean had things he wanted to ask, questions he needed answers to, things he wanted to say and get off his chest, but no words came.  Cas took a breath as if he was about to say something, but just let his left hand fall to the side of his thigh, his legs stretched out in front of him. Dean sat with his knees up, his left arm hanging off his left knee, the back of his right hand against Cas’s.

“It’s hard,” Cas finally said, “being human. I’d been a witness, an observer for so long that I thought I had a better understanding of what this was. I was sorely mistaken.”

“Yeah, I bet this mortal gig is a rough transition.”

“To say the least. Did you know,” Cas started, but then chuckled to himself. “Never mind. Of course you know. You’re human.”

“So this Isda chick, she’s one of the good guys?” Dean asked.

“Yes, she is. She kissed me.”

Dean’s head snapped to the right. “What?”

Cas smiled. “Yesterday. We were looking for a ride, walking down the road and took a break. We had a bottle of water, a bag of chips, and a half of a pack of those mini-donuts you get at the gas stations between us. We just sat down a few feet from the edge of the road and ate a little. She said she was scared. She didn’t know what to do. She’s the angel of nourishment, you know? Physical, emotional, spiritual nourishment, and here she was without purpose, starving in every way. She started crying and then laughed and asked what we were going to do. I didn’t know. She stared at me, her eyes were so green after she cried – they reminded me of yours – and then she kissed me. Just out of nowhere. And it wasn’t like Meg, it was soft and salty. Of everything, the bleeding, the pain, the thirst and hunger, that act felt more human than all of those things.”

“Wait, did you…on the side of the road?” Dean asked.

“No, Dean. I think we were both pretty exhausted for that.” He looked at Dean’s face. “You look relieved.”

Dean cleared his throat. “No, not relieved, just…on the side of the road? Anyway, go on.”

“I would be lying if I said I wasn’t overcome and was forced to show restraint. She is a beautiful person, I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“No, I hadn’t,” Dean admitted. His mind hadn’t been on Isda at all. “But Sam has apparently.”

“I like that she found someone here to talk to. When we first arrived, I was worried she would feel even more isolated.”

“What happened to your face?” Dean asked, changing the subject.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Cas said, guilt and shame coating his words.

“Fair enough.”

“It does hurt, though.” His head rolled toward Dean, their faces close. “Maybe I’ll have a cool scar or two.”

“Chicks dig scars.”

                Cas smiled. They just stared at each other, taking in each other’s faces. Dean turned a little toward Cas and reached up with his free hand, touching the sides of the cuts on Cas’s face, still a little swollen. Touching Cas felt so comforting. Dean felt his chin start to quiver, and he tried to stop it. He couldn’t walk away, so hiding his face seemed a little childish. He dropped his hand and flattened back out against the cage, tears overflowing his eyes.

                “I’m just so goddamn happy you’re here and you’re okay,” he spat out, his voice wavering.

                “Dean.”

                Dean refused to look back at Cas. The ‘Feelings Closet.” He was going to kill Charlie when she let them out of there. Cas jerked his wrist, the metal of the handcuffs pulling hard at his skin.

                “Dean. Look at me, please.”

                Dean looked up, blinking away more tears. He wiped his face with his free hand and looked over at Cas. “Yeah?”

                But Cas didn’t say anything at first. He just forced Dean to look at him, to see him. He took Dean’s hand and pressed it hard to his chest. “I’m here. I’m okay. You can relax, for now at least. You have to know that getting to you was my priority over everything so that you could see me like this. I’m temporary now. I’m not coming back if this stops beating. But I’m here.”

He released Dean’s hand, which immediately went to the back of Cas’s head. Dean gripped Cas’s hair between his fingers and his face fell. “Don’t go dying on me. You’ve left me too many times that I thought I’d never see you again and now…just don’t.” Dean had nowhere to hide, nowhere he could go even if he wanted to. He was locked right there on that spot, his shoulder against the cool metal, his face down and eyes closed as in prayer, his hand on the back of Cas’s head, their foreheads touching, just knowing he was actually there.  Tears started flowing down Dean’s face and he gripped his fingers tighter. Just as he was about to let go and his head tilted up, lips pressed against his. He didn’t realize what was happening; all he knew was that it felt as if he could finally breathe. The lips broke away slowly and Dean looked up.

“I apologize, Dean. Was that not okay?” Cas questioned, looking extremely concerned.

Dean didn’t know what to say. It was like nothing he had felt before, an extremely foreign feeling that settled over him. “No, it was…it was okay,” he finally answered. He couldn’t think, he just stared at Cas until staring wasn’t good enough anymore. He choked out “Cas” before he just acted. Talking wasn’t going to help when there were no words to explain what he was feeling. Dean reached up and touched Cas’s face before pulling him closer and kissed him gently back. Their foreheads pressed together, Dean felt his heart fluttering. He kissed Cas again, this time with more force, more urgency. It took Cas and himself by surprise with how much Dean needed this. With parted lips, he kissed Cas’s mouth like he needed this to breathe. His eyes were tightly shut, afraid to open them and it be a dream, Cas not be there with him and still not safe. But he was safe. He was right there, his tongue sliding along Dean’s, their lips moving against each other. Dean gripped Cas’s face with his hand, unable to stop touching him, unable to stop kissing him, reassuring that he had his angel, wings and grace or not.

He finally came up for air, leaning back and looking around the room, at their handcuffed wrists. He heard movement outside the door. The two stood and Dean banged on the door until someone came to unlock it. Charlie stood with the door cracked enough for her head to fit in.

“Are you guys ready to come out?” she asked.

“If you make one joke about closets,” Dean warned. Holding up his right hand and subsequently Cas’s left along with it he said, “Can we do something about this, please?”

“Okay. Hope you guys are all caught up,” Charlie said as she unlocked the cuffs. “I am off to bed. It’s late. Everyone else is asleep I think and I need my beauty rest so goodnight and don’t be mad at me,” she said. It all sounded like one word, her sentence flowing together as she skipped off down the hall.

Dean’s stern look faded when she was gone. He turned back to Cas, who was rubbing his wrist. “You, uh…you want to stay in my room?” he asked. His teeth clenched in tension after he’d said it. It felt so strange and embarrassing. 

“Do you want me to?” Cas asked. “I would stay if you wanted me to.” His sincerity cut into Dean.

“Of course I want you to.” He didn’t want to say it, but he never wanted to be without him again. Dean felt tethered to Cas, and Cas was his lifeline. The two headed to Dean’s room. When he turned on the lamp on the nightstand, a pale glow filled the concrete square. Dean closed and locked the door behind Cas, and pulled back the covers on his bed. He opened the drawer and pulled out a pill bottle and tossed it at Cas. “Take two. You’ll thank me in the morning.” Cas obliged, going to the bathroom to scoop water from the sink into his mouth to swallow the pills. He returned to Dean, pulling back the covers on the other side of the bed.

“Is…is this okay?” Cas asked again. “I can sleep in the chair.”

“Are you serious, Cas? After what you’ve been through I’m going to have you sleep in a shitty chair?”  Dean gestured for him to get into the bed. Cas just stood there. “I’ll turn off the light. Everything’s fine. I’m good. Are you good?”

“Better than ever,” Cas said flatly, his voice hiding something.

Dean clicked the light off. When the two of them were both laying in the dark on their backs, Dean questioned Cas. “Are you doing okay? Is something wrong?”

Cas sighed. “It’s just a lot of new in a short span of time. It’s taking a lot of getting used to.”

“We’ve all been through the ringer so many times and starting over as new people. It’s just another page in the book, Cas.”

“And this feeling between us, it’s just another page? Just something we go forward with without question?”

“First of all,” Dean started, “feelings stay in the ‘Feelings Closet.’ But yeah, I guess. Just another starting point.”

Cas turned toward Dean and propped himself up on his elbow. “I like this starting point.”

Dean could barely make out Cas’s face in the dark, but he could see his eyes shining and knew he was smiling. He reached up to Cas and caressed his cheek, rubbing his thumb along his heavy stubble that was nearly a beard. His thumb led him to Cas’s mouth, passing over his bottom lip. Cas leaned down and kissed Dean gingerly on the lips. Their mouths moved slowly, savoring every bit of each other in that moment. The taste of Cas sent chills through Dean, every bit of him tingling like an exposed nerve. He couldn’t help but let a smile escape as they kissed each other.

“What?” Cas said in between breaths.

“Nothing. I don’t know, just, _this_ feels good.”  Dean answered, his nose running along Cas’s cheek.

Cas smiled. “It does, doesn’t it?”

He kissed Dean once more slowly on his mouth, then his jaw, his neck, his clavicle. He ran his hand down Dean’s side, running his fingers across the waist of Dean’s jeans until he reached the button. Dean’s head started spinning, but he pushed all the nervous thoughts from his head before they got out of control and he freaked out unnecessarily. As the zipper on his jeans slid down, he felt himself pulsing, nervousness and anticipation creating an excitement like he’d never felt. Cas’s hand folded back the left side of Dean’s jeans to the pocket and slowly placed his hand on Dean. Dean felt his entire body seize up at the touch.

“You okay?” Cas whispered, looking into Dean’s eyes to make sure.

Dean nodded. He took Castiel’s hand into his and slowly began to stroke his cock, Cas’s hand applying the pressure while his supplemented the movement. Dean swallowed hard, his breathing instantly intensifying. He let go of Cas’s hand and it kept moving, up and over his head, back down to the base of the shaft, slow and deliberate movements that had Dean teetering on the edge. He grabbed Cas’s face, pulling it to his and biting Cas’s bottom lip. He invaded Cas’s mouth with his tongue, his breathing getting heavier. When Cas’s head disappeared a little fear crossed Dean’s face, a fear that went away immediately when he felt Cas’s warm breath on his skin. Cas’s hand and mouth traded places, timidly at first. His mouth worked the top half of Dean while his hand moved in unison with his mouth at the base. When his hand moved and he slid his mouth down Dean until he reached the back of his throat, the moan that escaped from Dean was full and loud.

Dean tapped Cas’s shoulder as if tapping out of a fight. “Stop, stop, stop,” he begged quickly. Cas moved his face toward Dean’s, but kept his hand where it was, not stopping but moving slower. “I don’t even want to know where you learned to do that.”

“I saw it on –“

“Nope, don’t want to know. Uh-uh,” Dean quickly interrupted. His arm was behind Cas, so he pulled him close and kissed him quickly. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Dean I’ve been human not even a week. You honestly think I know what I’m doing?” He kissed Dean’s forehead. “You know much more than I do in this area. Just tell me what to do.”

Dean was horrified at the thought. Being honest about what he wanted to try was frightening to him. But it was Cas, and he could trust Cas. He thought for a moment, brow furrowed as he contemplated if he should go for it or not. _Fuck it_ , he thought. He rolled over to his nightstand and opened the drawer. He fished around for a minute until his hand fell on the cool plastic bottle. “Move over me,” he instructed Cas. Cas looked confused, but did as he was told. Dean opened the bottle and poured some of the contents into his hand. “Fair warning, this is probably going to be cold.” He looked down at Cas’s cock and took a sharp breath in. _Oh, this is a bad idea_ , he thought. He wrapped his hand around Cas with his hand and stroked him with a generous amount of lubricant. Cas’s response was humorously audible. Dean shushed him and stifled a smile. He moved his legs to either side of Cas’s hips and positioned him. “Right here,” Dean said, looking Cas straight in the eyes. “Slowly, okay?” Dean breathed out slowly and nodded at Cas nervously. Cas leaned over Dean, took ahold of himself, and slowly pushed himself into Dean. Dean’s eyes grew large and he breathed in and out in quick succession.

“Are you okay?” Cas said, trembling.

Dean nodded. He pulled Cas’s face toward his and said, “I trust you.”

He kissed him, not slowly or desperately like before, but with a passion as Cas slowly moved his hips, thrusting gently at first but moving more fervently with each movement. He slid in and out of Dean, his hips hitting against the back of Dean’s thighs, pushing deeper. On either side of Dean’s head, Cas’s hands gripped into the pillow, his fingers digging deep. The pressure pushing on Dean brought him to the brink. He grasped at Cas’s arm, his neck, something to hold on to. A bead of sweat ran from Cas’s forehead to his nose, falling onto Dean’s face. An animalistic grunt escaped him. He and Cas grabbed each other by the side of the neck, staring into one another’s eyes in the dark. Dean took ahold of his cock and began to feverishly stroke it, his eyes rolling back into his head for a moment at the sensation of dual stimulation. Cas put his mouth on Dean’s, kissing him furiously as he thrust deeply into him twice more, his teeth raking the stubble on Dean’s jaw as he came, followed by Dean, both holding back the noises desperately trying to escape their throats. Cas collapsed onto the bed next to Dean, shaking.

“Holy shit,” Dean whispered as he exhaled. “Holy shit. What the fuck just happened?”

“I…I can’t move my legs, let alone think right now, Dean.”

The two lay in the dark, staring into nothing while they regained blood flow to their heads. Dean reached over and ran his hand through Cas’s hair. “You okay?”

“That was…new,” Cas responded.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, still disbelieving what was happening. He moved his fingers in Cas’s hair, slightly damp from sweat. “Shower?” he asked.

“Probably a good idea.”

Dean got the water running while he cleaned himself up a bit. Cas staggered into the bathroom and slapped Dean’s ass. “Really, dude?”

“It felt customary.”

“Nice, Cas.”

“Nice ass.”

“Shut it.” 


	3. Hunkering Down

Dean woke up to lips pressed to his. He didn’t even open his eyes; he just reciprocated with ease, as if he had been doing this every day for years. Despite his nervousness in the overall situation, waking up like this was the best feeling he’d had in a long time. Ultimately he felt so at peace with Cas by his side that none of the nervousness, the questioning of himself, wondering what his brother would say, none of it mattered. He was home.

                His hands went for Cas’s side. Again, the sensation of touching his skin removed all his anxiety. He was here, he was safe. “Morning,” he said when they paused. Cas’s hair was a mess. Dean smiled and blushed, looking down. He absentmindedly bit his lip.

                “Stop that,” Cas said.

                “Stop what?” Dean asked.

                “Doing that thing with your lip. And your eyes. Your _eyes_ , Dean. And freckles. Everything about you is just beautiful.”

                “Beautiful? Really?”

                Cas’s face grew serious. “Really. It’s ridiculous how beautiful you are.”

                “Shut up.”  Dean shoved his face in between them. “Same goes for you,” he murmured nearly undiscernibly into the pillow.

                “Why are you hiding your face?” Cas asked. He put his face down next to Dean’s. “Don’t hide your face. Not from me.” Dean looked up at Cas, his green eyes shining, a blush growing over the tops of his freckled cheeks. “I love you, Dean. You know that.”

                Dean’s cheeks just got redder, his face shoved back down into the pillow. Cas stole the pillow away from under him, but Dean just put his face in the mattress. “I love you too,” he mumbled.

                “Seriously, Dean?”

                “This is hard, okay?” Dean said, turning his face to Cas.

                “You don’t think this is difficult for me?”

                Dean’s face fell. “Of course it is. I’m sorry. Lots of new. I forget sometimes, you know?”

“Forget what?”

“That your wings have been clipped. That you’re flesh and bone and blood just like me. We’ve had a rough road, me and you. Not like it’s been easy with me and anyone, but we’ve been through the ringer.” Dean lay flat on his back and rubbed his hands through his hair.

“Breakfast?” Cas suggested.

“Yeah, breakfast. Probably more like lunch, but either way, food would be good right now.”

The two climbed out of bed and got dressed. Dean tossed Cas another shirt from his drawer, which he pulled over his head quickly and slid on Dean’s jeans. He stood hunched, waiting for Dean.

“You alright? You look cold. Last night too.”

“I’m just not used to regulating body temperature. I’m cold, but I’ve been colder.”

The image flashed again of Cas in the gutter, rained on and freezing and his heart sank. “I have a sweatshirt in the bottom drawer. Grab it.”

Cas fished out the dark grey sweatshirt that was thin from wear. He’d never seen Dean wear it though, and it felt like it hadn’t been worn in many years. He slid his arms into the sleeves and turned toward Dean.

“We need to get you a belt,” Dean added.

“Why is that necessary?”

“Because, Cas, your hipbones show when you raise your arms because the pants are too big on you.”

“Is something wrong with my hipbones? Is it indecent?” Cas asked, honestly concerned he’d offended someone with his hipbones.

“Yours are extremely indecent,” Dean laughed.

He lifted his shirt slightly, showing his stomach and hips. “How so?”

“The way they…with the…” he tried to explain, pointing with a flailing finger at the v shaped area that was only interrupted by the hanging waistline of his jeans on Cas’s body. Finally Dean gave up and spat out, “It’s just obscene. Put your shirt down.” Cas looked confused. Dean sighed, wondering just how many more years he was going to have to explain things to him. He walked over to Cas and smiled. He tried to fix Cas’s bedhead to no avail. “It’s obscene and indecent because of how sexy it is.”

Cas smiled. “Okay, I can live with that. But why, if it’s sexy, should I wear a belt?”

“Because it gets a rise out of me. And anyone else with eyes.” He was going to kiss him, but it felt a little strange. This felt so natural, but also was going to take some getting used to.

The two went to the kitchen where Kevin and Charlie were playing cards at the table and Sam was teaching Isda how to make pancakes.

“When there are bubbles all over the top, that’s when you know it’s ready to flip,” he said.

“Morning,” Dean said to everyone in the room. They all responded back in various fashion. This was such a strange family, but it was his. He finally had all the people he loved under one roof. Plus an extra angel.  

“Isda, did you sleep well?” Cas asked.

“Yes, it was very nice to sleep in a bed. Did you sleep well?” Isda returned.

Cas blushed. “Um, yes.  Very well. It was definitely good to be off the streets, feeling safe, comfortable, and clean.” He looked over at Dean with a smile.

Charlie’s face at the subtle interaction practically lit up the entire room. “That is awesome, Cas. So, so glad you slept well.” Sam and Kevin looked at her strangely, and Dean shot her an angry look. “I mean, it’s great – Isda slept well, Cas slept well, everyone feels safe and happy – it’s all good.”  

Sam’s eyes widened.  “Okay, Charlie.” He went back to plating pancakes. Isda started bringing plates to Charlie and Kevin, but they took them from her and carried them into the library so everyone could sit at the long table together. Dean poured drinks and brought them to the table, Isda following his lead. When they were all seated, Sam started conversation. “So get this, Isda was telling me that some angels are still searching for vessels, some have no idea what’s going on, others are intent on getting at Cas. I’m sure none of them care that Metatron Loki’d him and cut out his grace, other than the fact that he’s easier to kill. Sorry, Cas,” Sam said. Cas waved it off. “We’re not going to know who to trust even more now. And we don’t want anyone getting possessed since Hell’s running over and I’m fairly sure Crowley and every other black eyed thing out there would be thrilled to get ahold of any of us. So until we at least have a game plan, I say we hunker down and see how things play out for once.”

“I’m thinking we should make one more run into town,” Kevin suggested.

“What for? We’ve got food and liquor,” Sam responded.

“We have some people here who can be possessed – Charlie and Cas? Don’t you think they need to get tatted up?” Kevin looked at Sam like it was obvious, surprised Sam hadn’t mentioned it before. “I don’t think Isda should be worried about that, but Charlie and Cas? Definitely. Not like it helped my mom, but it’s better than nothing.”

Dean and Sam looked at each other and shrugged. “Does make sense,” Dean added. “You guys up for tattoos?”

“Sure?” Charlie said. Cas just shrugged.

“Well, let’s find a place and get it knocked out so we can get back here.” Dean clapped his hands as a signal for everyone to finish up and get ready to go.

“Wait, tattooed?” Isda questioned.

“Yeah, we’ve all – well, Sam, Kev, and I – all have anti-possession tattoos,” Dean answered, pulling down his shirt to show her.

“Now that was indecent,” Cas said quietly. Dean kicked his foot under the table and everyone gave them strange looks.

Everyone ate quickly and Dean washed up the dishes while Sam looked up tattoo parlors in the area. Charlie was taking inventory of things they might need if they were stuck for a while. They would split up – Sam and Kevin hitting the store while Dean and Isda accompanied Charlie and Cas to get their tattoos. Before everyone left, Sam pulled Dean aside.

“Can I speak to you for a moment?” he asked.

Dean shrugged, “Yeah, of course.”  They walked to Dean’s room and shut the door. “Okay, what’s going on? You feeling alright?”

“It’s not Sam, Dean.”

“Zeke? Jesus I thought something was wrong with Sam. Can we do some sort of code word so I know it’s you, or so I can, I don’t know, ring you up when we need to talk?”

“A code word would work.”  He stood in silence.

Dean sighed and gave up waiting on an answer. “Fine, thanks for the suggestions. Uh, how about if I need to talk to you, since you’re listening all the time anyway, I say _breaker breaker_ and you step up to the plate?”

“I can do that. Your brother is doing better Dean. He’s still weak, still has a lot of healing to do, but he is getting better. I believe that having Isda around could help him more.”

“Really? Like how?”

“She is the angel of nourishment. She can physically, emotionally, and spiritually heal others who are in need. Her presence is helpful to his cause.”

“So just hanging around, talking to Sam – that’s working?”

“You could ask her for help. Pray to her to help your brother. I’m sure especially in this situation she would abide. She likes Sam very much, and he is intrigued by her. Keep them close.”

“So she can be trusted?”

“I believe she can. She seems very pure.”

Dean thought for a moment. “Zeke, can I ask you something?”

“Yes, Dean. You may ask anything and I will do what I can to give you an answer.”

“Oh it isn’t anything that heavy – meaning of life or anything – what kind of angel was Cas? You said Isda was the angel of nourishment. So, what was Cas?”

Ezekiel smiled. “Castiel was an angel of solitude. He was a prince of the seventh heaven.”

“The TV show?”

“I’m sorry?” Ezekiel asked, confused.

“Nevermind. What’s the seventh heaven?” 

“He was the prince of the realm of the Holiest of Heavens. When people speak of heaven, of God and the archangels, the throne of God, the highest of angels residing with him, this is the place they speak of.”

Dean was beside himself. “Prince of Heaven. Like, _the_ Heaven?”

“Yes.  But as I said, he is an angel of solitude. And now he is an angel no more.”

“Ezekiel?” Cas said.

Dean and Ezekiel looked toward the door that had quietly opened unnoticed as they spoke.

“Cas –“ Dean started.

“Why is Ezekiel in Sam?” Cas asked, his voice full of anxiety.

“It’s okay, Cas. Zeke came in to help, remember? Well, helping kind of meant….”

“Using Sam as a vessel?”

“We are all wounded from the fall, brother,” Ezekiel explained. “The only way to save Sam was to take him up as my vessel. I am healing him and myself.”

“Is Sam aware of this?” Cas asked Dean.

“No, and we cannot breathe a word of this to him, understand? Sam finds out, he can press the eject button and both Sam and Zeke are done for. Not a damn word.” Dean’s jaw was flexed, trying to keep his voice down. “Listen, we gotta go. Zeke’s gonna slink back into Sam’s mind and Sam will be back. He won’t remember anything, and we don’t say a word. Got it?”

“I don’t like this Dean,” Cas said.

Dean snapped, his voice forceful. “I know Cas.  I don’t like it either. I’m tired of secrets, I’m tired of lies, but when it comes to saving my brother’s life, it’s the only way.” There was a knock on the door. “Jesus, what is this, the Brady Bunch? Come in.”

“No that’s okay,” Charlie’s voice came from outside the door. “We’re all ready if you guys are. I mean, take your time. Just…we’ll be in the Impala.”

Dean stared at Cas. “Be there in a minute,” he called to Charlie, not breaking eye contact with Cas. His voice returned to a whisper. “You understand, right? _Tell me_ you understand.”

“Fine. I understand. I won’t say a word.” He looked at Ezekiel in Sam’s body and nodded.

The three of them walked down the hall to meet the rest of the group in the car. As they reached the door, Dean turned to Ezekiel and nodded. He nodded back. “Sam, you alright there?”

Sam jolted, as if coming out of a daydream. “Yeah, just…I must have zoned out. We ready to go?”

“Everyone’s waiting in the car.” Dean smiled at him and pushed him toward the door.  He started to follow after Sam, and Cas grabbed Dean by the hand and pulled him back. “Hey, we’ll be there in a minute,” he called after Sam who was already up the steps to ground level.  Dean turned to Cas. “I know, I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I know it’s a risky move, but I had to. I had to try to save him.” Cas pulled Dean into his chest, hugging him tight.

“I understand, Dean. I do. Everything is going to be fine.”

Dean let Cas run his hand through his hair, consoling him. He wanted to believe that everything was going to be fine, and that they’d have a happy ending, but that’s never how his story panned out. 


	4. Sex and Tattoos

The sound of the tattoo gun humming was almost like music to Dean’s ears. Isda looked horrified as she watched Charlie and Cas getting their tattoos, Charlie’s on her inner elbow, Cas’s in the same place as Sam and Dean’s tattoos.

                “You okay there, Is?” Dean asked.

                “I’m…I’m fine. It just looks terribly painful.”

                “You’d be amazed how therapeutic it is,” he said. Isda just shook her head.  Dean touched Cas’s foot that was elevated by the chair being leaned back. He gave it a squeeze when the artist was turned away, and Cas gave him a small smirk. He couldn’t wait to have him alone again, ignore everything else in the world and just be with Cas. Even though it had pissed him off, he needed to thank Charlie for the ‘Feelings Closet’ scheme.

                When everyone was cleaned up and Sam and Kevin returned from a supply run, they went back to the bunker and parked the Impala in the garage. Charlie stepped out of the tightly packed car into the spacious warehouse-sized room that held cars and motorcycles.

                “Holy shit, you could fit Serenity in here with room to spare,” she said, taking in the huge space filled with vehicles.

                “It’s nice for Baby to finally have a place. Plus I don’t want her sitting anywhere near the bunker’s door if we’ve got people that are looking for us.” Dean looked around himself, a huge grin spread across his face. “Pretty awesome though, huh?”

                “Um, yes.”

                They headed back to the main level where Dean started cooking dinner. Cas and Isda chatted with Sam and Kevin while Charlie helped Dean. They worked quietly for a while, listening to the non-stop chatter across the room until Charlie couldn’t take it anymore.

                “So, how are…things?” she asked, a smile bursting onto her face.

                “Things have…progressed,” Dean answered, smiling as he flattened out the burger patties.

                “Progressed like talking or something more?” she prodded.

Dean looked up at Cas who was gesturing with his hands as he spoke. He dropped his eyes back to his task, uncontrollably smiling. “More.”

“Really?” Charlie whispered in exclamation, her face erupting into an excited glow. “Ugh I’m so excited for you. Feels great huh? Years of sexual tension…I hope that it was climatic for you,” she teased.

“Come on,” Dean said, rolling his eyes.

“What? At least _you’re_ getting some.”

“Why don’t you make nice with the angel?”

“Nah. She seems to have a lady boner for Sam. Plus she’s more friend material. But back to you. Was it hot?”

“Not talking about it.”

“Why not?”

“Not thinking about it.”

“Why not?”

Dean looked back over at Cas laughing at something Kevin said. A heat came over him. “ _That_ is why,” he said to Charlie, looking down at his crotch. His jeans were tight, and even though Charlie couldn’t see anything at her angle, she got his meaning.

“Gross. Gross, Dean. Go handle that. I can’t stand next to you knowing you’re…engorged.” Charlie made a face like she was going to vomit. “Go! I’ll finish up the burgers.”

“I told you I didn’t want to even think about it. Dammit, Charlie.” Dean gripped the counter. Thoughts ran through his mind, remembering those amazing sensations that sent chills throughout his body. “I don’t want to interrupt him.”

“Cas!” Charlie yelled. Dean smacked her arm. She turned and whispered, “What are you, twelve?”

“You’re…twelve.” Dean’s words failed him as Cas strolled over, his damn jeans hanging sexily from his hips, drawing the eye.

“No wonder it took you this long. Are you like this with women?”

Dean didn’t have time to answer. Cas had reached them. “What’s up, Charlie?”

“I think Dean wanted to talk with you. In private. Wink, wink.”

“Fucking shit,” Dean whispered under his breath.

“What’s happening?” Cas asked confusedly though amused, smiling at Dean’s uncomfortable stance and blushing face.

“Follow me,” Dean said gruffly to Cas and turned to Charlie. “You got this?”

“Yup. Be gone,” she shooed them.

Dean grabbed Cas by the hand and pulled him down the hallway to his room, where he shut and locked the door. By this time Cas couldn’t help but laugh. “What is wrong with you?”

“You. You are making me think things, and feel things, and want to do things –“

“You want to do things?” Cas asked, still chuckling.

“I want to do things,” Dean repeated. 

“And what are these things that have you acting insane?”

Dean stared Cas in the eyes for a moment, angry at him for being so fucking adorable. He hooked Cas’s shirt collar with his middle finger and pulled it down just enough to see the tattoo covered in clear plastic. He bit his lip, shut his eyes, and let go of the shirt. Dean put his hands on Cas’s shoulders and pushed him backwards against the door. He stared into Cas’s blue eyes, more intensely full of color than usual. He was fucking beautiful. He slowly leaned in, brushing his lips along Cas’s cheek. Cas’s breath hit his skin, sending waves of anticipation over him. He swallowed hard. Dean’s lips made their way to Cas’s, gently touching them. His hand wrapped around the back of Cas’s head, pulling him closer as he slowly pressed his tongue against Cas’s. Their mouths fit together perfectly, as if they were made to kiss each other. When they finally stopped to breathe, Dean pressed his forehead to Cas’s, caught his breath, and made his move. Foreheads still pressed together, Dean reached down to Cas’s waist and unbuttoned the jeans that slid off of Cas’s body with ease.  

“I’ve never done this,” he said.

“Neither had I,” Cas said.

That was enough to spur Dean’s reassurance. He kissed him once more, while he ran his hands up Cas’s shirt, feeling his body all the way back down to his hips as he moved lower, eye level with his hipbones that begged to be bitten. He placed his teeth on Cas’s skin, only just so, resting his tongue on him for a moment and ending the light bite with a kiss.  His knees shoulder width apart, Dean was rested on the ground, looking up at Cas. He took Cas into his hands and licked his lips. At the sight of this, Cas’s head leaned back against the door and he shut his eyes, his dick pulsing. Dean took Cas into his mouth slowly, apprehension due to inexperience still holding him back. His uneasiness did not last long, his mouth watering at the taste of Cas’s skin. He moved his mouth forward and back, pausing every few passes to let his tongue work around the ridges on Cas’s head. Skillful at being silent, Cas swallowed and grabbed a handful of Dean’s hair, gripping it tight. He found himself lightly thrusting his hips along with the movements of Dean’s mouth. Dean grabbed hold of Cas’s shaft and held tight while Cas took Dean’s head in his hands, slow fucking his mouth until his knees buckled. He would have nearly collapsed if he hadn’t been up against the door. Cas pulled Dean up off his knees and grabbed his dick through his jeans.

“Take off your shirt, take off your pants, and lean over the bed.”

Cas’s calm demeanor as he said those words made Dean’s eyes widen. He couldn’t help but be turned on by it and do what he was told. He pulled his shirt over his head and took off his jeans. Cas took Dean’s face in his hands and kissed him.

“Over the bed.”

Dean’s stomach dropped, both excited and scared. He first opened the nightstand drawer and took the bottle, handing it to Cas. “Be generous.”

Cas took the bottle and Dean lay on the bed, his stomach down on the low bed, knees on the ground. Cas ran his hand down Dean’s back, gripping his hip. His other hand applied the lubricant as he leaned over Dean on one knee. Dean breathed deeply in and exhaled slowly as Cas pushed in, filling Dean slowly. The pressure within him swelled and Dean’s eyes fluttered. He grabbed his pillow and pressed his face into it, biting down. Cas held his hands on Dean’s shoulder and head as he began to thrust smooth and steady in and out of Dean. Rolling waves of pleasure flowed over Dean’s body, Cas’s sweating palms pressing harder onto him. Cas thrust one more time and stopped, but didn’t pull himself out yet.

“Get up on the bed. Hands and knees,” he breathed. “I’ll move with you.”

Dean crawled onto the bed with Cas following. As soon as Dean was steady, Cas resumed his rhythm, but reached around Dean and grabbed his cock with one hand, his other on Dean’s hip. He stroked Dean again and again, his hand smoothing over him to their rocking rhythm. Dean couldn’t handle it anymore. He took his dick from Cas and into his own hands and began fiercely beating himself, with Cas taking the cue to go harder. Both hands on Dean’s hips, Cas pounded into Dean, his nails digging into his skin. Dean was moved forward, leaning the top of his head into the pillow as he let out a guttural moan. He didn’t care anymore if anyone could hear.

“Oh, God, fuck me. Fuck me, Cas,” Dean said through gritted teeth. “ _Fuck me_.” Dean’s thighs bounced off of Cas’s as he went harder and deeper. His wrist worked quickly, his dick swollen, the skin on his head shiny and stretched thin as he finally caved, his face and shoulders falling into pillow, his mouth gaped open as he came. He kept coming until after Cas stopped thrusting, breathing heavy and eyes rolled back. He couldn’t even think, the pleasure overwhelming him. The two collapsed onto the bed, trying to catch their breath. “Fucking hell.” Dean breathed.

“Right. Fucking hell,” Cas agreed. Dean rolled toward him and kissed him hard on the lips.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’m pretty damn sure I can say that for not having done this before, we’re good at this,” Dean said.

“Agreed,” Cas breathed. “I can’t imagine _that_ being ‘doing it wrong’ by any means.”

Dean looked over at Cas, his eyes bright green and mouth smiling. He wiped a bead of sweat from Cas’s eyebrow. “I love you, Cas. I do.”

“I know,” Cas responded. “I’ve always known. But it’s good to hear it.” 


	5. Stranger Danger

 

                _Fuck_ , Dean thought. Cas had gone to the bathroom, leaving him alone with his thoughts for a moment. He was shocked at himself, embarrassed even, that he had told Cas he loved him. He meant it, there was no doubting that. He didn’t regret saying it at all; yet just the thought of having actually said it aloud unnerved him.  He tried to shake the insecurity out of his head. _It doesn’t fucking matter that I said it._ His entire life he had been John’s little soldier, all of his thoughts and actions mimicked his father’s ideals. Slowly he had begun to move away from what John had ingrained in him since the night his mother died and had become a man of his own. It had taken so many years, going through hellish situations and coming out somehow alive, to become comfortable being the person he was.

Dean stood and brushed away the anxieties that were pulling him away from the happiness he had felt just five minutes before. There was only one way to silence the cacophony of thoughts in his head. He went into the bathroom where Cas was brushing his teeth, smiling as soon as he saw Dean’s reflection in the mirror. He moved timidly, not accustomed to this new aspect of their relationship. In stuttered movement, he brought his arms around Cas from behind, landing his chin on Cas’s shoulder at the crook of his neck. As Cas finished brushing his teeth and stood straight again, Dean kissed his neck softly, and then returned his head to Cas’s shoulder resuming his vacant stare at the sink. Cas didn’t say a word. He breathed in deep, letting out a happy sigh. A smirk escaped Dean’s lips which brought his mind back to the present. He looked up into the mirror at Cas’s smiling face and couldn’t help but smile back.

“Shower?” he asked Cas, who nodded in agreement. Dean turned on both of the showerheads on opposite ends of the wall and let the water heat up. He stepped onto the tiled floor and let the water hit his back. Cas followed, and when Dean tipped his head forward from out of the water he opened his eyes to a loving gaze. “What?” he asked Cas, who chuckled softly.

“You are just so aesthetically pleasing.”

“Are you saying I’m _pretty_?” Dean asked, his eyebrow cocked.

“If that’s the word you want to use, yes. You’re even cuter when you’re wet.” Dean gave Cas his best bitch face which only made Cas laugh harder.

“Well you’re…” Dean started, but couldn’t think of anything to finish.

“Don’t try to turn it around on me, Dean. It has never been your strong suit.”  Cas’s smile grew until he couldn’t contain it anymore. Laughing again at how adorable Dean was when he was _trying_ to be a badass despite already actually being one, Cas rubbed his hand through Dean’s wet hair and let it rest on the back of Dean’s neck.

Dean tried to look angry, but couldn’t. Anger was not something he could even fake in this moment. Not with Cas. He finally gave up and smiled back. Cas pulled Dean’s head toward his, closing the distance between them. Cas’s lips were wet and starved; the only thing satisfying them was being on Dean. He kissed back wholeheartedly, now gripping Cas’s face in his hands, through his hair. He threaded his fingers through Cas’s hair and pulled back, looking into his icy irises, pupils dilated. He brushed his lips along Cas’s jawline and bit his lower lip, then looked into Cas’s eyes with a feeling of dominance. But there was something in Cas’s eyes that melted it instantly, a mischievous flash that told him he was in trouble. Cas’s sapphire eyes penetrated into his as he felt himself slammed against the tile wall. The steam created from the dual showerheads on his left and right filled the bathroom. Cas kissed Dean’s jaw, then neck, skimming his lips down his body until he was faced with Dean’s obvious arousal. His head pushed back against the tile wall, Dean’s jaw flexed and he swallowed hard as he felt Cas’s breath against his skin. A slight moan came out as he exhaled as Cas’s mouth surrounded him, sliding slowly over his head and down his shaft. His knees nearly buckled when Cas’s tongue began osculating along with the forward and back motion of his head. There was no way to grip the walls, wet from water and steam. Dean’s hand slid down as he tried to catch onto something, but there was nothing for him to put his weight on. His head pressed harder into the wall as his knees bent, his teeth clenched tight in an attempt to keep from crying out. He ran his hand through Cas’s hair and grasped tight. Cas stroked Dean’s cock with his mouth, sucking and letting his tongue roll back and forth underneath, massaging as he voraciously pleasured Dean. Dean’s cock still in his mouth Cas moaned, finding pleasure in the act himself, sending vibrations through Dean that he wasn’t prepared for. He began to tap on Cas’s shoulder, but Cas kept going, moaning again. Dean’s vision started going black, his eyes fluttering until he shut them tight, tapping harder and faster on Cas’s shoulder for him to stop.

“Cas, stop. Cas I’m going to come,” he said breathlessly.

Cas ignored Dean, only stopping for a moment to lick the tip of his head, salty and smooth. He slid his mouth over Dean again and again, gripping Dean’s hip with his free hand. Dean stifled a cry but couldn’t stop the next as a sensation moved through his body, his head spinning as he came. He couldn’t think; everything he did was involuntary. He cried out _oh fuck_ and was nearly gasping for air, his arm feeling for something, anything to hold onto as his legs began to shake. He was pulling Cas’s hair, probably too hard, but he couldn’t even tell what was happening. The only thing he knew was that Cas didn’t stop. He was still going, slower now, letting Dean come into his mouth. When he finally stopped, Cas turned his head and spit. He stood, rinsing his mouth out with water and spitting again before turning back to Dean, who was dangerously close to losing his balance. Cas steadied him and Dean shook his head, his eyes open wide.

“What the fuck happened?”

“I don’t know, but it looked transcendent,” Cas smiled. He grounded Dean with a kiss, all the blood slowly returning to Dean’s brain so he could focus.  He looked at Cas intently, studying his face and eyes, wanting to remember every minute detail of this moment.

“Hello?” someone called. The door to the bathroom was hit three times in succession by a closed fist. “What the hell is going on?”

Dean’s voice cracked. “Sam?”

“Yeah,” he answered, cracking the door.  “Shit, Dean the door is sweating. Turn on the fan or something. Where’s Cas?”

Dean’s eyes grew wide. “Ah….” He didn’t know whether to lie to his brother or to out himself, but one look at Cas’s face, fallen slightly at the thought that Dean might deny them, gave him courage. “He’s in here. With me.” Dean moved the shower curtain so he could see his brother. “You need something?”

“Uh, no, not really, just wanted to see what was going on since you disappeared earlier, but never mind, I’ll talk to you later when you’re…out…of the shower,” Sam said quickly, rushing through his words. “I’ll, uh, be in the library okay?”

“I’ll be out in a few.”  Dean watched Sam awkwardly nod and back his head out of the bathroom before he shut the door. Dean turned off his side of the shower and turned to Cas who had already done the same. The proud look in Cas’s eyes warmed his heart. He leaned into Cas and softly kissed his lips.

“You told him. Why didn’t you lie?” Cas asked.

“Because there’s enough lying going on as it is. And,” he added quietly, “I love you.”  He looked at the floor, circling the drain with his toe.

 Cas lifted his chin with a finger. “I love you, too.” 

“Alright, enough with this chick flick shit. Let’s go talk to Sam.”

“Both of us?”

“Yeah, why not? Might as well get it over with so Sam isn’t running into tables or stuttering every time he sees us.”

“True. Also, do you think it’s possible for me to speak to Ezekiel?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m sure. Why?”

“I’d just like to speak with him.”

The two toweled off, dressed, and met Sam in the library. He poured Dean a drink and handed Cas a glass of water before they sat down.

“So, what’s up?” Dean asked as he took a seat.

Sam chuckled. “What’s up? Seriously?”

“Well you came looking for us for a reason.”

“Yeah I can’t even remember now. Maybe it’ll come to me. But more importantly…you guys,” Sam said, nodding with an awkward grin on his face.  “You’re a thing.”

“Yeah,” Dean answered.

“Well I’m not surprised, honestly it’s about time, but it _did_ catch me off guard.”

“It’s about time?” Dean repeated.

“Come on, Dean. Like everyone would notice but me?”

Dean looked at his brother incredulously. “I –“

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad to see you happy.”

“Where’s Isda?” Cas asked Sam.

“She’s with Charlie and Kevin. They’re watching a movie in Charlie’s room,” Sam answered.

Cas looked at Dean and he nodded. “ _Breaker, breaker_ ,” he said quietly.

“What?” Sam asked.

Dean cleared his throat and repeated himself, this time a little louder.

“Yes, Dean?” Ezekiel asked.

“Cas wanted to chat with you.”

“Castiel,” Ezekiel said warmly.

“Ezekiel.” Cas’s voice as a little colder.

Dean took this as a cue to leave. He stood and headed to the kitchen to grab some lunch for him and Cas. He got the plates ready and grabbed two beers from the fridge, carrying them back into the library where Cas was finishing a story about being newly human and Ezekiel was laughing about it. “I think Sam has been out long enough,” Dean mentioned when there was a break in conversation.

“Of course,” Ezekiel said, his face turned serious. Sam’s body relaxed in the chair and he shook his head. “What were you saying?”

“Nothing,” Dean said, taking a bite of burger.

“Where’d you get food?”

Dean realized how unbelievable anything he could come up with would be, so he just went for it. “The kitchen. You zoned out for a minute. How much did you have to drink last night?” he asked accusingly at Sam.

“Hardly anything at all,” Sam said, confused.

“You should go lay down. Maybe watch a movie.”

“Maybe,” he said. Sam stood, looked at Dean and then Cas for a moment with a furrowed brow, and turned to head toward Charlie’s room.

When Sam was out of earshot, Cas slid into a chair next to Dean. “We have a problem.”

“What now?” Dean said with his mouth full of food.

“Ezekiel is not only deemed the angel of death and transformation – he was general of God’s angelic army. He is the defender of truth in the face of deception. In no way would Ezekiel deceive anyone.”

“So we have a holy lie-detector?”

“No. When we were talking, we spoke of heaven and being human. I’ve spoke of these things with Ezekiel before. We spent millennia together – we had battled together.”

“Spit it out, Cas.”

“Dean, that is not Ezekiel.”

“What do you mean that’s not Ezekiel?” Dean said, his entire body tensing up. He kept his voice low, but his anger was mounting. “Who the hell is in my brother?”

“I can’t tell – I can’t be sure. I can’t see them anymore. But I think it is Elijah – also called Sandalphon, brother of Metatron.”

“What?”

“Metatron’s twin brother Sandalphon fought against Lucifer, absolutely relentless in the war against him. I don’t know why he would deceive you to reside in Sam.” Cas’s voice was hushed and bordering on nervous.  “Although as Elijah, he did make a deal with Lilith once,” Cas added.

“Again, _what_?”

“I’m not sure, Dean. I don’t know what to say.”

“If Zeke said Isda is good, that we can trust her – _and that’s not Zeke_ – who is Isda and what side is she on?”

“I want to believe her, Dean. I do.”

“Yeah I want to, too.” Dean put his face in his hands and took a deep breath before looking back up at Cas. “What do we do?”

Cas looked around and shrugged. “Research?”

“So we just have to sit here while Heaven’s own little Hitler’s twin brother rides shotgun in Sammy and hope the reason he’s lying to us is for _our_ benefit?”

“This isn’t good, Dean.”

“No shit.”

 


	6. Who the Hell Is In Sam

Cas and Dean walked slowly through the library, scanning the bindings on the books for anything that might be helpful. Every so often, one would be removed, flipped through, and hastily put back when it held no helpful answers. As they reached the fifth stack, Dean stopped looking, and broke the silence that had begun to ring in his ears.

“So, this Sandalphon guy…is he someone we should be worried about? Should we be preparing to send his ass straight to Heaven’s front door or what? Because I’m ready to kick his lying teeth in,” Dean growled through clenched teeth.

Cas grabbed Dean’s arm and squeezed, trying to ground him. “Just because he’s deceived us to who he is, whoever it is, does not mean their intention is to harm us or Sam. They could just be hiding.”

Dean’s jaw flexed. “Yeah, in my brother.”

“Have we never lied when we thought we were doing the right thing?” Cas asked.

Dean rolled his eyes, and his body relaxed. He remembered how time and time again he lied to those he loved most, hid who he was or his intentions, all because he thought he was doing what was best for them. “Fine,” he mumbled. “He gets the benefit of the doubt for now, but if we both for one second think something is wrong, he’s fucking gone. Same goes for your pal Isda.”

Cas frowned, but nodded in agreement. “You’re right, Dean. Your family’s safety is what’s most important. I’ll do anything I can to keep Sam safe.”

“Not just Sam, Cas,” Dean said as he exhaled, his hand wiping his face. He stood for a moment, blinking back tears that burned in their wanting to escape. “Kevin. Charlie. Sam. _You_ ,” his voice broke. “You’re _all_ my family. I’m tired of losing people. I don’t want to lose anyone else, not here, not when we’re finally finding some kind of home. We deserve better. You _all_ deserve better. And I brought this on us –“

Cas interrupted him. “Dean, you absolutely did not.”

“You didn’t know what was happening, you were conned. I made Sam stop the trials. I let this guy in. I lied to Sam. I just – I just wanted to….” Dean leaned back against the bookshelf, sliding down until he settled on the floor.

Cas knelt down, running his hand through Dean’s hair, then resting it on his shoulder in an effort to comfort him. “We did what we thought was right. We both screwed up. And we can fix this. We just need to do it one step at a time. Keeping us safe here in the bunker is the best thing for everyone. And now we need to find some answers. We’re not running, we’re not under attack – at least for the moment, we’re safe.” Cas cupped Dean’s face in his hands. “You are keeping us safe.”

Dean fought himself, but finally relented to looking up to the face of the man knelt before him. He lifted a hand, placing it over the one softly resting on the left side of his face and gripped it tight. “Am I?” he asked, his eyes pleading. “Am I keeping everyone safe?”

“For God’s sake,” Cas moved his face on level with Dean’s and practically shook his face as he spoke. “Dean Winchester, stop doubting yourself. You cannot hate yourself so much when you of all people on Earth have sacrificed yourself again and again for the sake of others.” He was going to stop there, but the look on Dean’s tear-soaked face was heartbreaking. He pushed his forehead against Dean’s like they had when they were locked in the storage closet, that feeling of reassurance and gratefulness flowing through. Cas took a deep breath and whispered to him, answering the unspoken question that had consumed Dean for nearly his entire life. “ _You are worth it.”_

      *                       *                             *                             *                             *                             *

Bottles in hand, Cas and Dean leaned against opposite stacks of books facing each other, pouring over books on spells, angel lore, and possession.

“Hello?” Kevin called as he entered the room.

“Down here,” Dean said, raising his hand and waving the beer bottle, hoping Kevin would see him sitting there in the stacks when he reached them. “Could actually use your expertise.”

Kevin rounded the corner to where Dean and Cas sat and stared at the number of books piled up around them. “What are you two looking for? Is something happening?”

“No, nothing to worry about,” Dean reassured him, “but it wouldn’t hurt to have a couple of things on hand, like maybe how to evict an angel from possessing a body.”

“What?”

“What we really need, Kevin, is a truth spell. Then the other thing,” Cas added, glaring at Dean. “But first, the truth spell.”

“Should I be worried about something?” Kevin asked, looking to Dean and then Cas and back again. “Do I need to get Sam?”

“No!” Cas and Dean said in unison. Dean cleared his throat. “No, just if you could give us a little break and track this down for us it would be awesome. We finally narrowed it down to this one here,” he said, handing a large book to Kevin, “and these three possible winners over there.” He pointed to Cas’s pile of books and Cas mouthed _I’m sorry_ as he patted the stack of three four-inch thick books sitting next to him.

“So…what do I do when I find one?” he asked.

“Find the ingredients, and let us know,” Dean said. “Then get started on the other one.”

Kevin sighed. “Can I at least have Charlie help?”

Dean tilted his head and squinted an eye. “Uh, I think I’d rather keep this between us.”

“Okay,” Kevin agreed. He cautiously picked up the books. “I’ll try and get it to you as soon as I can.”

“Thanks Kev. You are a gentleman and a scholar.” Dean raised his bottle to him. “Oh, and Kev, if you happen to stumble upon any names of some angel that makes your prophet senses tingle, let us know that too.” Kevin nodded and sluggishly headed toward his room, lugging the tomes. Dean looked over at Cas, the two of them reflecting each other in their sitting position and sly smiles. Knees up and apart, arms hanging on them, a bottle in hand, the two had let go of all the tension and emotion of just over an hour before. “I think we earned a break.”

Cas smiled. “I agree.”  He put his bottle down and reached out to Dean who reached back with his free hand. As they pulled each other up to standing, Dean stumbled back against the bookshelf, nearly tripping over some ancient texts. Cas teased him. “One beer and you’re falling into the bookshelves?”

“Oh yeah, you know me. I’m a lightweight,” Dean joked, kicking aside a few of the books at his feet. He looked down at Cas in his shirt and jeans, biting his lower lip as he inhaled the scent of him – the cleanliness of the shower mixed with Cas’s own smell that was so different now, and the slight tinge of his drink on his breath. Dean gazed into the startling blue eyes that looked back at him and a shock of electricity rolled like a wave through his body.  He brought his eyes down slowly, looking at Cas’s lips, chest, and stomach before stopping at the top of his jeans. He hooked his fingers in the belt loops at Cas’s sides and pulled him close making Cas fall toward him in a step, landing with his chest against Dean’s. He met the intense blue eyes again, his words catching in his throat.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, his forehead creasing with concern.

“What you said earlier, that I was worth it,” he started, “do you really think I am?”

His lips pressed firmly together, and his eyes welled up. “Damn it, Dean.” Cas sniffed and looked up trying not to let the tears fall, unable to escape as Dean still had him by the belt loops.  He flexed his fist at his side, squeezing until Dean could see his knuckles turning white, then watched as he exploded in a tirade of whispers. “You’re never good enough are you? You can’t sacrifice yourself enough, you don’t think you deserve to be saved, you have so much hate for yourself welled up inside – but why? Let go of all the guilt and just be you. We’re all having to start over here right? Give not hating yourself for once a try.” Dean started to roll his eyes. “Don’t – _don’t do_ that.  Just stop. There is nothing we can do right now, nothing but make it through each day trying to not make any more mistakes.” Cas braced his fists on either side of Dean’s head, using the fact that he was still held there at the hips to force Dean to make the connection. He pressed against him, trying to look Dean firmly in the eye. 

Dean tried to step back, but already had his back against the shelf. His eyes fell, staring down at the point where their bodies met, shame and guilt weighing on him as always. He knew everything Cas said was true, but couldn’t ever bring himself to let go of the guilt, of the people that were dead because of him, of his family he had to protect at all costs – and fixing the mistakes he made along the way trying to do so. He lifted his eyes to blink back tears, but he was too late. Hot tears raced down his face, only to be brushed away by Cas’s hand. With that simple gesture, his body let go. Dean released Cas’s belt loops and put his arms around him, hugging tight to Cas as he sobbed softly. He felt Cas’s hand petting the back of his hair, consoling him with the smooth, calm movements.

After a few minutes the tears stopped. Letting go of the embrace, Dean leaned back against the bookshelves again. As he moved, Cas didn’t back away. He followed, tracing Dean’s jaw with his hands until they cupped the scruff on his face and pressed his lips to Dean’s relaxed mouth that, after the touch was well received, parted easily to join the slow and deliberate movements between the two pairs of lips. Dean’s hands moved slowly, one resting on the back of Cas’s neck, the other drifting to the small of his back, pulling him close. He was lost in the kiss and the sensation of Cas’s body against his until Cas pulled away.

“Sorry,” he said softly, a grin spread wide across his face. “Needed to breathe.”

Dean felt his heart flutter and a chill ran through him. He smiled as he shook it off. “You want something to eat?” Cas nodded and shrugged. “I’ll make you a sandwich or something.”  

Cas followed Dean into the kitchen and decided on peanut butter and jelly. He sat at the table in the corner of the kitchen and thanked Dean when he brought him his sandwich on a small plate and a soda. “I wish I could see who it is in Sam,” he said under his breath.

“That makes two of us.” Dean opened his beer and took a long swig. “Do you think Isda can see and just hasn’t said anything?”

Cas’s brow furrowed. “That would be a terrible betrayal. Although it’s entirely possible, I don’t believe that is the case.”

“Don’t believe or don’t want to think we’ve been duped yet again?” Dean asked, his eyebrow cocked.

“Both,” Cas sighed. “She was damaged so much in the fall. She took a vessel, but she’s still broken. Her energy has gone into healing, and I don’t believe…I don’t _want_ to believe…that she would be keeping secrets from me.”

They sat in silence while Cas ate. Dean had his arms crossed over his chest, staring at nothing, his mind wandering as he tried to figure out a plan of action. Cas glanced at him every so often, becoming more worried about what events would transpire over the next few days. Soon Kevin would have a truth spell, and maybe a way to cast whatever angel was lurking in Sam out without hurting Sam. Soft footsteps approached the kitchen. Dean didn’t move and his blank gaze remained unbroken, but Cas’s eyes flicked up to see which one of their group was coming, watching the open doorway as he drank his soda. He saw Isda padding across the floor in socked feet. Dean looked up when she came into the kitchen, sitting up straighter and clearing his throat.

“Hello Castiel. Dean,” she said quietly. “I was hungry. Charlie and Sam were watching a show and I didn’t want to disturb them, but I don’t know what I’m doing here,” she said, gesturing to the stove and refrigerator.

“I’ll get you something,” Dean said, glancing over at Cas before he stood and offered his seat to Isda.

“Thank you,” she said graciously. “You have no idea how incapable you feel when you’re the angel of nourishment and don’t even know how to feed yourself.” Isda slid into Dean’s seat across from Cas, her smile showing discomfort.

“Is something wrong?” Cas asked. Dean looked up, listening to the conversation as he made a plate of food. Isda fidgeted nervously. “If there’s something wrong, you can tell us.”

Isda sighed heavily as she allowed the sleeves of the oversized plaid shirt that was most likely Sam’s fall over her hands as she shook out her arms, then put her balled up fists in front of her mouth. Shifting in the chair, she moved her arms in front of her, laying them flat on the table, trying to gain the appearance of composure after her display of vulnerability. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with Sam,” she started. She looked up at Dean. “Your brother, he is such a good man. I like him very much. He’s kind, gentle, and shows such empathy. I am glad to have found a friend  in Sam.”

“But?” Dean asked since Isda was reluctant to get to the point.

“But,” she continued, “I know that someone dwells in him. He is not alone in his body.”

Dean snapped his head over to Cas. “Do you know who it is?” he asked her, still looking at Cas to back him up in questioning. She too kept her eyes locked on Cas. Dean wasn’t sure if it was her asking him to save her, or if she was putting on an act. His trust of her was worn thin now that the idea that she might be lying was gnawing away at the back of his mind.

She looked at Cas earnestly, leaning forward as she started to speak. “Did whoever it is tell you who they were?”

Cas looked at Dean, as if he was wondering if he should tell her. Dean nodded, crossing the kitchen with a sandwich, chips, fruit, and a glass of water for Isda, setting it in front of her before taking a chair and moving it close to Cas for him to sit, as if they were preparing for an interrogation.  “He’s called himself Ezekiel, but I know this is not true. I did not say anything to alert whoever it is that I know of their deceit, but now we’re trying to figure out who it is and why they are lying.” He paused, letting Isda take in all the information. Her eyes grew wide and a look of worry immediately came upon her face.

“Do you know who it is?” Dean repeated, taking note of her increasing anxiety.

“No, I do not,” Isda replied with a heavy sigh of frustration. “He is hiding, and he is deep. I would not believe it to be true if I had not felt a presence. I have not called him out. Sam is unaware?”

“Sam has no idea, and I need to keep it that way. Charlie has no clue, and Kevin doesn’t know why we’re having him do this research. This is top secret level clearance required information until we have a plan,” Dean answered. Isda looked wary. “Look, Kevin is working on a truth spell and some other things that might help us out, but now that you’re on team Who the Hell Is In Sam, anything you can do to find out who it is and how to get him out without killing my brother would be most helpful.” Dean smiled through gritted teeth.

“Should I go get Kevin?” Cas asked.

“No, we’ll go see how he’s doing after Isda refuels.”

Isda ate quickly, and the three ventured down the halls to Kevin’s room. Dean knocked and was let in, the door closing quietly behind them. Kevin had papers and books strewn across a desk and his bed, and started listing everything he had found, pointing to a book and then a symbol drawn on paper. He had a truth spell that if invoked by Dean, no one could lie to him. As Kevin dispelled this information, Dean’s eyes flickered over to Isda to see if she showed any signs of panic, but she was calm, listening to Kevin and studying the materials closest to her. A list of ingredients was made – an egg, divining oil, a white candle, and rainwater. Kevin left to head outside to collect rainwater, while Dean went to find the divining oil and a candle. Cas went to the kitchen and took an egg out of the fridge, cracking it and letting the yolk and white fall into a cup. Isda found a set of candle holders and brought them to Cas, who placed each unwashed half onto a candle holder. Kevin returned with the rainwater and filled each half with what he had found from the previous rain that had collected in leaves. Dean made his way through the kitchen with the candle and oil. He placed a few drops of divining oil into each egg, lit the candle, and then they all stood around the table.

Dean and Cas each took turns passing the candle over their egg half three times while they said the incantation, speaking at the same time; “As of the earth, so let it be that all I seek be shown to me.” Each put their right index finger into the rainwater and oil inside the egg.

“How long to we leave it there?” Dean asked Kevin.

“Just…just carefully pick up the egg with your left hand, move over to the sink, and crush the shell over your finger,” Kevin explained, reading the spell directions from a paper he had scribbled on.

Cas and Dean went to the sink and did as they were told. “Can we rinse it off?” Dean asked, looking disgusted at the slimy wetness on his finger.

“No. Well, it doesn’t say. But just in case, I wouldn’t. Now you have to blow out the candle.” They complied. As the smoke rose up from the candle, the four looked at each other as if something were supposed to happen, all eyes ending on Kevin. “Okay, for the next day, anytime your finger is pointing at the truth, it will tingle.”

“Tingle like Spidey-senses or tingle like I stuck my finger in a socket?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know,” Kevin admitted. “But, hold on.” Kevin ran back to his room, and came running back with two books. He handed Cas and Dean books listing the names of angels, their duties, and their part in various lore. “It seems simple, right? Run your finger down the pages, and when it starts to feel tingly, we’ve got the name.” He sported a broad smile, pleased at how easy the task should be. He continued, speaking quickly in his excitement to see if it worked.  “Each book has different angels, some the same, one having a few the other doesn’t and vice versa. With both of you doing it, we should find whatever truth you’re looking for pretty fast.”

Dean and Cas sat down at a table in the library and opened their books. They could see Kevin and Isda in the kitchen cleaning up, and Kevin starting to make some food for himself. They went page by page, running their index fingers past names and passages. Cas chuckled.

“What?” Dean asked, looking up from his book.

“It works. There’s a little shock that travels up your finger. This is actually correct,” he said smiling.

“What’s correct?”

Cas had a look of pride and nostalgia as he answered while he kept reading. “Me.”

Dean looked over to where Cas’s finger lay, and saw _Castiel_ written in calligraphy at the head of the passage. He felt sadness for Cas, but also loved the enjoyment he seemed to get out of the novelty of having a history of his place in Heaven right before him, reading it as a human.  He went back to his book, running his fingers along the pages, trying to find the truth. The pages went by without any result until he felt a jolt in his finger like a static charge, except it continued running up to his second knuckle before dissipating. He tapped the name _Isda_.

“It looks like your girl checks out,” Dean said softly. He looked through to the kitchen and saw Isda talking with Kevin while he ate.

“Why would it stop at Isda’s entry?” Cas asked.

“Because I needed to know if she was honest, I guess. It definitely makes me feel a little more relaxed about the whole situation. Why did it shock you at yours?”

“Maybe I just needed reminding.” Cas’s face grew serious, and he returned to his work.  Dean let that one go. There had been enough feelings shared for the day. After everything was fixed with Sam, he’d find out what was worrying Cas that he wasn’t letting on.

“Shit!” Dean said in a loudly in a low tone, gripping his finger and then shaking his hand.

Isda and Kevin came running. “What is it?” Kevin asked. “It worked?”

Isda leaned over Dean’s shoulder and read the name to herself. Her face fell and her pallor whitened further. Cas stood up and leaned over the table to see why she was so stricken. Isda began to shake. “Gael. It’s Gael. Gadriel. Father of Cain. Teacher of weapons and war. The serpent who was cast from Heaven.”

“Cas, what is she talking about?” Dean said as he stood, near shouting.

Cas came around the table and took Isda in his arms, trying to hold her still. “It’s okay, Isda,” he said, trying to calm her. He looked to Kevin, who was standing confused and not knowing what to do.  “Kevin, please will you take Isda to the kitchen and get her some water – try to calm down any way you can.” Kevin nodded and took Cas’s place holding Isda together by hugging her to his side, practically carrying her into the kitchen. He faced Dean.

“What the hell is she talking about Cas?” His breath was quickening and his face was turning red from anger.

Cas stared into Dean’s troubled face and said without any uncertainty, “Dean, this will not end well.” 


	7. Unwanted Guest

 “So who is this guy?” Dean asked, trying to not get his temper worked up.

“He’s been locked away for a very long time, since the creation of man, so we don’t know much about him. All we have to go on really is the story that has been passed down,” Cas said.

“That the thing hijacking my brother is some urban legend angel? How do we even deal with that?” Dean fumed, his balled up fists burring into the table.

“I have no idea. And without knowing his true intentions, I don’t know how Sam will fare if we eject him.”

“What do you mean ‘if’? That bedtime horror story is gone the second Kev finds some way to get him out. Sam will be okay. We’ll figure something out. But that Gael or whoever has got to go. We gotta come up with something better than a witchy lie detector if we’re gonna do something about this – and we gotta do something about this _now_ , Cas. Now.”

Cas put a hand gently on Dean’s shoulder. “We’re going to do this. Let me go talk to Isda. We’ll figure this out with Kevin – you take a breather.”

Dean scoffed. “A breather?”

“Or have a beer,” Cas sighed. “Take a nap. Just calm down. We will handle this, and Sam will be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

“How, Cas? We don’t know what’s going to happen. He could be ripped apart by what’s inside him in a second when it knows we’re coming for him.” Dean’s voice trembled. Had he only prolonged the inevitable? Tried to skirt Death one too many times?

“Dean –“

“I know. I know, you’ll handle it.” His hands relaxed from fists to open hands palming the table, his fingers beginning to drum before he finally looked up and loosened his tense stance. “I’m going to go sit in that chair right there,” he said, pointing to a cushion-back chair in the corner of the library, “and take a nap. I’m going to cross my arms, nod off, and hope to god that when I wake up you three have come up with some brilliant strategy to save my brother.”

“Okay Dean. You…rest. We will deal with this.” Cas waited for Dean to move to the chair, nodding at him as he gave him the look that Cas hated, the “ _I_ need _you to do this, don’t fuck this up_ ” look. Dean retreated to the chair, sitting and crossing his ankles and arms, setting his chin on his chest with a heavy sigh. Cas turned to Kevin and Isda, Kevin’s arm still around Isda’s shaky frame. He approached them with long soft strides, wanting to be at his friend’s side as quickly as possible without frightening her further.  “It’s okay, Isda. The three of us are going to figure this out, and we’re going to remove Gadreel from Sam. We will cast him out, and then it will be up to you to save Sam.”

“Up to me?” Isda asked, her voice still quivering. Pushing her initial question aside, she continued to more pressing matters. “But how will we even cast him out? Why is he there? What will he do when we try to remove him?”

Dean listened from the chair feigning sleep, hearing their voices pitch up and down in a dance of panic and purpose. Soon they turned into humming, fading into the background as he went over the options he saw in his mind. What were they going to do, just ask him nicely to vacate Sam? They could call on Crowley for help, but that would only lead to more trouble. They could lock him away, interrogate him, but that could hurt Sam. So could ejecting the unwanted guest and leaving Sam nearly dead with so much widespread internal damage that he’d probably slip back into a coma. But they did have one weapon on their side – Isda. Surely if she were strong enough, she could heal Sam. But she was weak. If they could find some way to restore her energy and expel Gadriel, Gael, Gadreel, whatever his name was, they’d be golden. Still, it could take days. They may not be able to act as quickly as everyone wanted. He breathed deeply and opened his eyes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling. It took him a few seconds to hear Kevin standing right beside him saying his name.

“Dean,” he said, “you there?” he asked softly.

Dean nodded, sitting up in the chair. “Yeah Kev, whatcha got?”

“We have an idea. The problem is, Isda’s not…well she still has her grace, which means she should have some sort of healing powers in theory, but we’re afraid to try out anything and drain whatever she has left. It’ll be hit or miss if we try to heal Sam after we cast Gadreel out. And unfortunately, there’s nothing on the tablet – any tablet – that tells us how to cast an angel out of a human.”

“So what’s the plan then?” Dean asked.

Kevin took a deep breath. “Okay, here’s where it gets kind of convoluted.”

“Oh _here’s_ where things get complicated? Good. Everything was crystal up until now.”

Kevin rolled his eyes.  “You killed Zachariah, right?” Dean nodded. “And you didn’t look away. You saw his grace, his true form as you killed him, and you didn’t go blind or die obviously.”

“So?”

“People just can’t do that, Dean. Didn’t you say Cas burned out your friend Pam’s eyes without even being present? Hearing or seeing an angel in their true form is enough to kill someone. But Dean, you stared Zachariah in the face and made it out alive. And you said everything rattled and glass broke when Cas tried to speak to you after raising you up from Hell, but like, your head didn’t explode.”

“Okay so I can see and hear angels and not die, what’s your point?” Dean looked up at Kevin, eyebrows raised. “How does that help Sam?”

“There’s this Enochian symbol, the Sigil of Ameth. It can be used to control pretty much anything except archangels, and Gadreel’s not an archangel. But it can only be used by someone who can see angels. It’s called beatific vision or something. But it’s specifically an amulet, the Sigillum Dei. Any chance you know if the Men of Letters had it laying around?”

“Yeah sure, let me just go into the junk drawer of godly amulets and see what we got,” Dean said derisively. “Are you serious? Where in the hell would they even keep something like that?”

“It’s pretty important, so in a vault? Not just in boxes or drawers like some things I’ve seen laying around.”

“Like the Jesus spear that was laying around?” Dean said. “Down right disrespectful is what that is.”

“Exactly. But this thing controls anything below archangels, so they had to know how important that was and lock it away somewhere.”

“But they didn’t even believe angels existed. And if they did, they sure as hell didn’t let on.”

Kevin crossed his arms. “Well that’s what we’ve got. Well, we do have another option.”

“And that is?”

“Carve it…onto you?” Kevin winced at his words.

“Well I’ve done worse.”

Kevin’s face continued to look pained. “It’s a _really_ complicated sigil.”

“Whatever. What’s step two?”

“Ring of holy fire, you do the spell, Gadreel gets cast out, then Sam is….”

“…broken all to hell,” Dean finished. “And we need Isda to heal him.”

“Exactly.”                                                                            

Dean drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “What does Cas say?”

“What do mean what does Cas say?” Kevin looked bewildered. “Cas says they don’t know and there’s no way of telling if this is going to work.”

Cas and Isda made their way over to Kevin and Dean. Cas instinctively placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder.  Dean looked up to see Cas’s worried face. “How long do we need?” Dean asked, his eyes quickly looking over to Isda before returning to Cas.

“Can we try two days?”

Dean sighed. “That’s a lot of time for everyone to play it cool.” Isda looked at him sympathetically, finally calm. Kevin looked at his feet.

Cas looked at their small group. “We can do this. Charlie doesn’t know anything. Isda can keep interacting with Sam as usual, engaging him in conversation. Kevin can keep watch, maybe recruit Charlie in a hunting mission for the amulet. We’ve been…tucked away a lot lately, so we shouldn’t be missed if we aren’t hanging around much if it comes down to placing the sigil on you. We _can_ do this.”

“Two days,” Dean said. He slapped his hands on his thighs as he leaned forward. “Then let’s put on our happy faces.”

 

 *                                            *                                             *                                            *                                            *

Dean leaned on the doorway of Sam’s room, watching his brother click away on the computer. He had just checked in on Charlie, who had racked out in an awkward position sitting up in her bed, the game she was playing paused and the TV screen dim. After turning off the television screen, but leaving her game, he settled her into her bed at a more comfortable angle and covered her up, kissing the top of her head as he tucked her in.

He exhaled deeply before turning into Sam’s door. The only good thing about this situation is that it wasn’t like lying to Sam was something new. He wasn’t proud of it, but the practice would come in handy in this situation. He didn’t want to let off any vibes that might clue Gadreel in and wanted to avoid talking to him at all if possible.

“Hey, brother. What’s going on in the outside world?” Dean asked Sam.

Sam turned and nodded at Dean.  “Hey. Not much really. Quiet. But quiet’s good, right?”

“Yeah,” Dean smiled. “Quiet’s good. What are your plans for the evening? Maybe…you and Isda…” he suggested, winking.

Sam chuckled.   “No, Dean. I don’t think it’s like that. I mean, she’s really cute, but is that… _her_? You know? She’s still an angel in a vessel, right? Or is she human with angelic grace? I just don’t know and I don’t want to cross that line.”

“Look at you, Mr. Do The Right Thing. She likes you though.”

“I can’t even believe I’m talking to you about this.” Sam blushed, pushing his hair out of his face with his hands and holding them to his head for a moment before letting them fall to his knees. 

“Well this is not your normal situation. And when have our conversations ever been exactly normal?”

“True, but I feel like I’m in middle school asking you for advice on how to talk to a girl. Except this girl is an angel. Literally.”

“Well what do you like about her?” Dean asked.

“Other than she is incredibly engaging and fascinating? There’s just this sense of calm that radiates from her. And, for all I know that could be some angel thing.” He paused. “Is, uh, that kinda thing there with Cas?”

Dean’s face fell. “Well he’s human now, so…I don’t know if it’s specifically an angel thing.”

“Sorry I brought it up. I don’t want to weird you out talking about it.”

“It is a little weird,” Dean admitted to his brother. “It’s honestly just so good between me and him –“

Sam shut his eyes tight and shook his head. “Jesus Dean! I didn’t need to –“

“No, no, no,” Dean repealed. “Not _that_. Well that, but that’s not what I’m talking about. When it’s just me and him,” Dean paused and cleared his throat before he continued. “I get that feeling of calm and it’s like all the things I’ve carried have been lifted off of my shoulders.”

Sam stared at Dean and smiled. “You look happy, you know?”

“You know what, I am. It’s been a while.” Dean’s eyes drifted to a blank space on the wall, thinking about other times he was happy, and who was there to share it with him before shaking the thoughts away. “So why don’t you keep talking to your angel friend, be the big spoon and smell her hair or whatever you kids who aren’t having sex are doing that keeps you looking _so deep_ into each other’s eyes,” he teased.

“I’d tell you to shut the fuck up, but I’m not gonna lie. That sounds really nice.”

Dean enjoyed having this moment with his brother, but he also had to lay some lines to keep the plan from derailing. “So ask her over,” he suggested. “Start a book club. Ask her about the beginning of time. Watch Game of Thrones. I’m sure she enjoys your company as much as you do hers.”

“I will. You and Cas gonna hang up the Do Not Disturb sign?” Sam asked Dean, a teasing smile spreading across his face.

Dean licked and bit his bottom lip out of habit, nodding. “Yeah, probably. I mean we’re locked down here in this cave cut off from the world, might as well take a little ‘us’ time.”

“Us time?” Sam repeated. “Wow. Yeah, this is going to take a little getting used to.”

Dean smiled and looked down. “New things take time.” He tapped the doorframe with the back of his heel, his arms crossed. He looked back up at Sam. “Well, I’m off. Be good, little brother. Go talk to her. She’s in the kitchen, I think.”

“I will,” Sam promised.

Dean smiled. He could feel his eyes turn glassy, filled with worry about his brother and what would transpire the next few days. Before Sam could pick up on anything, he turned and walked away – slowly at first, then quickened his pace as he rounded the corner down the hall. He got back to Cas, Kevin, and Isda in the kitchen and took Isda by the hands. Startled, she looked at Cas and Kevin to see if she should be worried, then back into Dean’s frantic eyes. Before she could ask what was going on, words started to fly from his mouth.

“Listen, I know that you are scared of this angel, but you can’t be. Ignore whoever is in Sam. Just be with _Sam_. Watch out for him. If anything, and I mean _anything_ , looks weird, you turn tail and get out of there and come get me. He’ll be in here in a few minutes. He’s gonna ask you if you want to come watch something or talk or whatever. Just remember that it’s Sam, Isda. Sam’s the one asking you to spend time with him. Please remember that,” Dean pleaded.

“It’s okay, Dean,” she said slowly, trying to ease the worry on his face. She pulled gently away from his grasp, holding his rough fists together in her hands. “I understand. Castiel has calmed my nerves about Gadreel. He has not harmed Sam, only tried to help. Something is going on that we are not aware of. If he wanted to harm any of us, he could have done so. I can put aside his presence and focus on keeping Sam busy. It’s my part of the plan. I understand this. Keeping Sam busy and healing him, it is my job.”

“But how are we recharging your juice in the meantime?” Dean asked as Isda released him.

“I’ll work on it,” Kevin said. “I’ll try to figure out a way to give her a little extra something.”

“Like an angelic booster shot?”

“Kind of, yeah. The only thing we know works is time, so having time helps. If we had a month –“

“We don’t have a month,” Dean interrupted.

“I said _if_ , Dean.” Kevin’s brow furrowed. “ _If_ we had a month, we’d be better off, but we don’t have that kind of time. So while we wait, I’ll find something to recharge her grace. As soon as I find something, we can make a move. I’ll start looking tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Dean asked, his eyes flashing with anger.

Kevin snapped back. “Yes, _tomorrow_. We all need sleep, and you need the Sigil of Ameth before we can do anything. So for now, fucking get some _rest_ Dean.”  Kevin cut his eyes at Cas and turned, walking away. “I’ll be in my room. Sleeping. Like a normal person,” he called back, not stopping.

 


	8. The Great Escape

Dean’s irritation at Kevin subsided once he realized just how tired he was, and how much work they had to do. He knew he was right; time was the only thing they definitely had and could use, it was his own impatience at removing Gadreel that was pushing the deadline to sooner rather than later. There was no imminent threat. Still, it wasn’t going to make him sleep any better. Soon after Kevin had stormed down the hall to his room, Sam walked into the kitchen. Dean grinned at him, and Sam awkwardly smiled and nodded to his brother. Dean tugged Cas’s pants leg and had him follow to leave the two of them alone.

Cas and Dean shuffled down the hall to the storage areas, Dean looking at the doors and trying to remember what he had seen in each room, and which one might have a vault or be some inconspicuous place to hold an important amulet. If they could avoid carving it into him, that would be ideal, so he was at least giving it a shot. Cas trailed him, not saying a word. Dean approached a door he didn’t remember ever opening, and went in. As he felt for the light switch and flicked it up, the bulb flickered and buzzed before staying on. The small storage room was filled with boxes and shelves, but nothing that seemed Sigil of Ameth worthy. At the same time, knowing where the Spear of Destiny had been kept, he wouldn’t put it past those Men of Letters suits to throw something so important into a file box to collect dust for decades. He stepped into the room and Cas followed.

“This is just as good as any a place to start, I guess,” Dean murmured.

“I’ll start right and you start left, meet in the middle?” Cas suggested.

Dean nodded and the two started shifting through paperwork, in boxes, cabinets, and things piled on shelves. An old filing cabinet gave Dean nothing, and an apothecary with drawers Cas hoped would have some sort of hidden treasure wound up either empty or filled with junk.

Moving on to another room, they went through the motions, going through everything carefully but without much hope. They came across much of the same, thick books with yellowed pages, fancy nib pens, and knifes of unknown origin to Dean, but nothing amulet like. One last hope was the closet that Charlie had trapped them in. The backing to the closet was odd. The entire bunker was concrete and iron and steel, but the storage rooms all had wooden shelves lining the walls, except this one.  Dean opened the cage and looked through the artifacts stored inside, emptying sacks and boxes and finding nothing with an Enochian symbol on it. Dean and Cas stood side by side, mimicking each other’s stance. Arms crossed, feet shoulder width apart, scowls of concentration overtaking their faces. Dean searched the corners of the cage with his eyes, looking for any sign of a way to open the back wall. He’d seen plenty of hidden storage and false bottoms to drawers and car trunks in his day.

 “Maybe it’s just a closet,” Cas said.

Dean closed up the doors and turned with defeat, sitting down with his back against the cage. Cas sighed and sat down next to him, in opposite positions of how they were sitting when Charlie had locked them in there.

“Without the Sigilum Dei amulet, we only have one other option,” Cas said, the dread of what they both knew was going to come hanging in his words.

“Not looking forward to that,” Dean admitted, “but whatever we’ve got to do.”  His head fell over to look at Cas. “It’s going to suck.”

“It will pain me too,” Cas responded, looking sick. “Kevin was right. It’s a very complicated and intricate symbol.”

“Do you think it’s safe enough for us to leave the bunker? Maybe hit up a tattoo parlor instead?”

Cas thought for a moment. “It would be risky. We’d be gone for hours. But I like that option better than the alternative,” he admitted. “I don’t like the idea of causing you any pain, let alone hours of it. Honestly I don’t believe it can be done in two days with any true accuracy.”

“Well maybe we can find another way to do it.” 

“I’m afraid the worst option might be the best. But we can definitely consult the tattoo artist to see if it would be possible to do quickly.”

“What time is it?” Dean asked, looking at his watch. “Almost midnight. They might still be open. You wanna sneak out of here and at least talk to the guy that did the tattoos and see if someone would be free to work on me?”

Cas smiled at the thought of sneaking out of the bunker with Dean. “Sure. Let’s go.” He stood and reached his hand out, pulling Dean up from the floor. His smile returned with Dean’s face close to his, taking the opportunity to kiss him softly and with great affection.

The gentleness of the touch grounded Dean. The tension that had been coursing through his body settled as everything else disappeared, all because of such a simple act as having Cas’s lips pressed to his. Sam was right. Angel or not, calm radiated from Cas. When Cas leaned back, he kept Dean’s hand in his and pulled Dean behind him as they made their way to the garage.

“They’d notice the car gone, but you know how to drive one of these, right?” Cas asked him, pointing to a 1949 Harley Davidson Hydra Glide.

“Yeah, but it’s been a _long_ time,” Dean said, excited at the prospect of taking a bike out.

 

Dean rolled the bike down the road until they were pretty far away from the front door of the bunker. It probably wasn’t necessary, but they weren’t going to risk it. Dean straddled the bike, starting it on the third try. Cas slid onto the back of the saddle seat.

“This is slightly awkward,” he said.

“Well this should be interesting,” Dean said to himself as he put the bike into gear and headed down the road with Cas’s hands gripping his thick middle. They pulled up to the tattoo parlor, neon lights still on. Dean turned off the motorcycle and waited for Cas to get off. Cas slid off of the bike from behind Dean, a strange look on his face.  “What’s wrong?” Dean asked, dropping the kickstand and swinging his leg over the bike.

“I wasn’t prepared for the vibrations,” Cas admitted, turning red.

“Jesus, Cas.” Dean said, looking up to the sky in exasperation, then back at his man. “You okay? Can we go in or do you need a minute?”

“I think I’ll be fine,” Cas said.

Dean led the way into the shop, nodding at the girl at the desk. She asked what they needed, and Dean asked if he could make an appointment for the following day, which would probably take up the entire day. As she looked at the schedule, she asked what he needed, to which he looked to Cas.

“Can I use your computer?” he asked.

“Sure,” the girl said, spinning her monitor toward him and handing him the wireless keyboard. She called for the artist who was in the back to come to the desk, and the man that emerged was one who was in there a few days before. “Jayce, you were all free tomorrow, but not anymore.”

“Here. This is what he needs,” Cas said. He pulled up the Sigil of Ameth and the girl’s eyebrows went up.

“I’ll print out a high res photo and I guess your friend can talk it over with Jayce. He’ll be working on him.” She turned to Dean. “Where are you looking to put his?”

He craned his head to look at the monitor and a look of annoyance came over him. It was the same sigil Bobby had spent three days putting on the ceiling in his house. It was huge. And Kevin wasn’t joking when he said it was complex. 

The girl took the picture out of the printer and handed it to Jayce, who let out a long whistle. “Holy shit man. Where are you going to put that?”

Dean didn’t realize how big this thing was. To make sure they got every detail, it’d take up a lot more skin than he was thinking. “I guess on my stomach,” he suggested.

“Well let’s see what I’m working with,” Jayce said. Dean pulled up his shirt and Jayce cocked his head to the side, then held out the paper and looked between it and his canvas. “And you want it just like this, exactly?” he asked.

“Exactly like that,” Dean answered.

“You drop half as the deposit, I’ll draw it up and if you can be in here at nine, we’ll get working. We’ll be closed, but just knock and I’ll let you in. We’ll have to break for lunch and it’ll probably take all day.”

“We’ll be here.”  Dean pulled out his wallet. “Three hundred work for now?” Jayce nodded. It was all he had on him. “See you in the morning.”

Cas and Dean nodded to Jayce and the girl and went back out to the lot. Dean waited on the bike as Cas threw his leg over and slid in behind him. “You situated?” Dean asked.

“Situated, yes. Prepared? Not really.”

Dean chuckled as he started the motor, turning the empty parking lot, and driving back toward the secluded road where the bunker embedded itself into the hillside. The wind pushed against Dean’s face, and the feeling was one that he missed. He revved and went faster, speeding along the dark back road until he approached the point where they would have to get off and walk again, pushing the bike into an enclave instead of trying to sneak it in and out of the garage again later. 

Dean and Cas walked slowly toward the back side of the bunker. Dean’s hands were shoved in his pockets, enjoying the warmth of the evening on his skin. The sky was dark and clear, stars shining bright enough that along with the half moon, they could see clearly enough as they stepped along the dirt path. Crickets sounded and fireflies lit up the wood line in flickering intervals.

“It’s nice out here,” Cas remarked. “Do we have to go in immediately?”

Dean smiled. “I like when your mouth does that thing.”

“What thing?” Cas asked.

“That thing. When you say certain words. Your mouth quirks. It’s cute.” Cas looked puzzled. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a thing.”

“Hmm.” Cas looked frustrated at not knowing what it was his mouth was doing that he wasn’t aware of, but was soon distracted staring up at the sky. “It’s so beautiful. Quiet and calm.”

Dean’s hands shoved down deeper into his pockets as his head tilted back, looking into the vastness of black above him, speckled with white lights. He remembered doing this with Sam so many times, sitting on the hood of the Impala and Sam telling him which constellations were which. He rocked back on his heels and down again. “Okay, let’s go inside. Gotta be up early.” Cas nodded and trailed behind him as he made his way down to the side door of the garage. He fished a key out of his pocket and quietly went inside, making their way to Dean’s room. The bunker was silent. Somehow, despite everything that waited for him in coming days, Dean felt peaceful.

 

*                             *                             *                             *                             *                             *

His eyes opened slowly in a squint, burning from lack of sleep. It was going to take him a minute to wake up. Dean rolled over to see Cas still sleeping. His brown hair was matted down on the right side from the position he had started in last night, Dean holding him tight, worrying that somehow he would vanish if he let go. Cas had fallen asleep quickly, but Dean stayed awake, every so often pressing his lips to the base of Cas’s neck and squeezing him as if he couldn’t help but need to be even closer. He didn’t know how long it was before he drifted off, but he couldn’t have gotten much sleep. He looked at his watch, and let his head fall back onto the pillow. It was seven-thirty, and they would have to leave before long. But he still had a little time.

He started to drift when he felt light touches across his cheek. “Morning,” he said without opening his eyes.

“Morning. Have I mentioned how great your freckles are?”

“I believe I’ve heard that recently. I was also called ‘beautiful’ and ‘aesthetically pleasing’, if memory serves,” Dean grumbled. Even though he acted grumpy, he was fighting off a smile. He opened his eyes and saw Cas with crazy bedhead propped up on one elbow, his eyes full of mischievousness that Dean couldn’t read the meaning of. “What?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

“First of all, I wanted to express my happiness at waking up next to you. Secondly,” his hand drifted under the covers and lifted Dean’s shirt, “I wanted to take a look at this skin before it’s filled with ink.”

Cas pulled the sheet down, leaving Dean’s waist-less middle bare. He started kissing Dean’s stomach, his fingers sliding over the paunch that covered unmistakable muscle that flexed underneath.  He traced a few scars, moving his body to rest in between Dean’s thighs, on his knees, his hands bracing him as he kissed just under Dean’s navel, following the light hair that continued under the band of his boxer-briefs he had slept in the night before. Cas drug his hands underneath Dean, squeezing his ass and massaging his thighs while Dean lay there, watching him, letting his body relax.

“I thought you wanted to appreciate my stomach,” he said.

“I can’t help but appreciate all of you,” Cas answered with a smile.

Dean smiled back, sitting up so that they were face to face and Cas had to rock back to sit on his heels, his smile only getting bigger. “What are we doing here?” he said, trying to contain laughter. “You bristly faced bastard.”

“We’re calling each other names now, I guess,” Cas offered. “Well I do need to shave.”

“No I like it,” Dean admitted. “It’s not like purgatory beard, it’s just scruff. It’s…yeah.”

“I like yours. The longer it gets, you can see flecks of red,” he observed, staring at Dean’s facial hair for a moment before resting back on his eyes.

“Your hands are still on my thighs.”

“Yes they are.”

Dean reached behind Cas and pulled at the bottom of his shirt, tugging it up over his head. “How’s your tattoo?” he asked, throwing Cas’s shirt across the room.

“It’s fine. The swelling has gone down a bit and the redness too.”

Cas hooked his fingers on Dean’s waistband and slowly pulled down, letting his fingertips dig into Dean just a little as he slid the underwear over his thighs. Cas grinned and pushed Dean flat on his back, taking the briefs off and casting them to the wayside. Dean looked surprised but then excited as he felt Cas’s face rub against the inside of his thigh and a small bite before Cas’s mouth was on him. He covered his face with his hands, exhaling sharply as Cas went to work, his thumb massaging just under Dean’s balls. Dean could barely think as he fumbled his hand toward the nightstand for the lube. He tapped Cas’s shoulder with the bottle. Cas took this as a sign to keep going, taking a moment to take the bottle from Dean’s hand, but continued on. Dean gripped the sheets as he felt the cool gel circling, teasing him, before he felt the pressure he’d been waiting for. His breathing became rapid, feeling himself swell again and again, almost unable to handle the sensations of Cas’s mouth and fingers working together. Suddenly Cas stopped. Dean exhaled all the air from his lungs, his eyes shut tight. Slowly, he felt Cas move forward. He expected him to start fucking him, until he was straddling him, reaching behind Dean with a handful of lube, stroking his cock.

“Wh-what are you doing?” he asked. Before he could get an answer, Cas slid carefully down until Dean was completely inside him. Dean buckled, stuck between laying down and sitting up, his eyes growing wide and staring straight up at Cas.

“I think a little give and take is more balanced,” Cas said with shallow breaths. He rolled his hips forward and back, Dean grabbing onto him.

_Those hipbones_ , Dean thought, watching them move as he started to buck slightly, not even realizing it. As Cas rolled back harder with each repetition, Dean went from absentminded thrusting to slow fucking as Cas rode him. A quiet _fuck_ or two escaped him as he started to come, one hand on Cas’s ass and the other reaching up at his neck, grasping at his face. Cas slid off of Dean, slapping the side of his ass playfully, gesturing for him to turn over. Dean could barely move, but desperately wanted this feeling to continue. He rolled over and barely made it to all fours before Cas had his ass in his hands, rubbing it gingerly before gripping and spreading Dean’s cheeks apart, his tongue lapping and circling in a way that made Dean’s erection come back almost immediately. He tilted his ass up further, and Cas bit his cheek, making Dean moan before sidling up and sliding into him, the coolness of the lube part of the pleasure. He couldn’t help but think of how taboo this all was, which only turned him on more. He braced himself as Cas’s rhythm picked up, tensing his thighs so Cas could hit that sweet spot every time without readjusting his balance. Cas tried to grab ahold of Dean, but his solid torso didn’t yield anything for him to hold. He slid his hands around Dean’s front to his pelvic bone, his thumbs still pressed into the skin of his backside, Dean feeling Cas hit once, twice, and then again harder than he ever had, coming and leaning over Dean, his stomach on Dean’s t-shirted back as they both tried to catch their breath without breaking away from each other.

When Cas finally backed away, he helped Dean off the bed and they headed to the shower. Dean got in first, listening to Cas at the sink. He washed up quickly and was almost out when Cas got in. They stared at each other without saying anything for a moment, Dean’s side of the shower running hot, Cas just standing, his arms crossed and biceps glistening with sweat, a smug grin on his face.

“Your hair looks ridiculous,” Dean finally said, sliding a hand through his hair to fluff some of the water out.

“Your eyes are really green,” Cas mentioned.

“It happens sometimes.”

“Why are you looking so surly?” Cas asked.

“Because I’m a surly kind of guy,” Dean answered, grabbing Cas’s face with one hand and quickly pressing his wet lips to Cas’s before slapping his ass and getting out of the shower.

“What was that for?”

Dean smiled. “It felt customary.” 

 


	9. The Sound of Silence

     No one was awake when Dean and Cas slipped out of the bunker. Dean walked slowly as he wheeled the motorcycle down the road, Cas at his side. The crisp fall air prickled his skin. The stillness of the morning had stricken them both to silence, afraid of disturbing the quiet that accompanied their covert escape. At the crossroad, he stopped to swing his leg over the motorcycle and waited on Cas to jump on the bike. Dean rubbed his face with his free hand as the weight shifted when Cas settled in behind him, realizing he should shave soon.  He’d never let his scruff get this out of control. He started the bike once Cas’s hands were on his hips and turned right to head into town.

     The town was relatively empty. There was only one car parked at the shopping strip on the side of the lot near the tattoo parlor. Dean pulled in and parked alongside the car, and stretched when he got off the bike. Cas squeezed Dean’s exposed hip while his arms were upstretched, his shirt revealing a sliver of skin. Dean flinched and gave Cas a dirty look, tugging at the bottom of his shirt.

     “Are you ready?” Cas asked.

     Dean let out a drawn out sigh and hit his hand flat on his stomach. “Let’s do this.”

     Jayce met the two at the door, softly chuckling at Cas standing behind Dean in a black hoodie. His hands were shoved in his pockets and he was blowing out his breath, rocking back on his heels, looking like a kid instead of a nearly six-foot -tall man.  Dean greeted him with a smile as he let them in and locked the door behind them, closing the blinds.

     “I appreciate you doing this, man,” Dean said, clapping Jayce on the shoulder.

     “It’s the business I’m in. Let’s get you cleaned up and we’ll get started.”

     Dean lay down in the chair, pulling his shirt up to his neck. Cas leaned against the door of the room, his arms crossed. Jayce pulled out the Sigil of Ameth sketch and stood over Dean, deciding how best to center it on his stomach. Dean held his breath.

     “This isn’t going to be pleasant, but you look like you can handle it,” he said while he pressed the transfer paper onto Dean’s middle. “The good thing is you have like, no waist, so it’ll make it easier for me.”

     “Glad it’ll be easier on you,” Dean mumbled. He looked down at the purple ink the paper had left on his skin. The sigil started at his sternum, moving between and below his pecs, rounding out at his sides and ending just above his pelvis. The bottom opening of the center star was occupied by his belly button, perfectly centered on his lower torso. He scanned the lines that needed to be drawn. There was a lot of work ahead, and it was not going to be fun.  Dean put his head back and closed his eyes as Jayce turned on the gun.

 

*                             *                             *                             *                             *                             *

     The whirring of the tattoo gun continued on and off until they took a break at lunch. Cas had gone next door and gotten subs for the three of them.  Jayce went out back to eat his lunch and get some fresh air. Dean stayed lying in the reclined chair, his shirt taped up so he could eat and not have to hold it, just in case it slipped. The main outline was completed; only the details remained. That would have been reassuring except for the fact that the number of complicated marks that still needed to be pushed into Dean’s stomach was pretty high. He groaned as he ate his meatball sub, dreading the next few hours.

     “Your skin is very pink. Are you sure you can keep going? Should we come back tomorrow?” Cas asked, his brow furrowed with worry. “It looks very uncomfortable.”

     “Well I can think of a lot of things I’d rather be doing. Like anything,” Dean said, laying his sub on his chest. “But I have to get it done. We have to get that thing out of Sam. Even if Isda isn’t ready by tonight, I want to be ready on my end whenever that time comes.” His arms fell to his sides as he sighed. “Where’s Jayce? Let’s get moving.”

     “Dean, he’s worked three straight hours. He needs a break and so do you.”

     “I’m fine.”

     “Eat.” Cas’s face went from concerned to commanding in a single word, startling Dean.

     “Yes, sir,” he mumbled, picking his sandwich back up and taking a bite, pausing and smiling at him quickly as he chewed a mouthful.

     Cas softened a little. “Thank you.” His face slowly lost the sudden sternness.  Spotting a stool under the small table situated in the room, Cas hauled it out and set it against the wall. He sat, arms crossed, hair messy, worry weighing heavy on his brow. “What do we do if this doesn’t work?”

     Dean finished the last bite of his sub and dusted his fingers off, balling up the paper and tossing it in the trash. He lay back and let his head fall to the side. “No idea,” he finally said. “I have no plan B. This is all we’ve got. I’m not bringing in any other angels or demons to help us with this one. We’re going to do this, and it’s going to work. Because it has to.” Cas didn’t seem to be reassured. “How about after this, you and me go get a beer?”

     “Shouldn’t we get back as soon as possible?” Cas asked.

     “We’ll be gone all day anyway. I’m gonna need one after this anyway. And we might as well get in a beer before we head back to lockdown.” Dean raised his eyebrows, hoping to add to his argument.

     Cas conceded. “Fine. One beer.”

     “Stop looking so surly.”

     “Give me something to think about that doesn’t worry me and I’ll stop.”

     Dean smiled a cocky grin and looked down at his exposed torso, waving his hand down his body as if it were a show car on The Price is Right. “Nice, huh?”

     “Inappropriate, Dean,” Cas scolded. But one more nod from Dean, his eyes widening and wide smile beaming at him - even if it was all for show - was enough for Cas to smile.

     “Just think of all the things you could –“

     “Dean!” Cas interrupted, his smile breaking into a soft chuckle. “Okay, enough.”

      Jayce walked into the room and clapped his hands. “Ready to get this party started again?”

      He turned his music player on and AC/DC started playing. Dean put his hands behind his head and took a quick look over at Cas before the hum of the tattoo gun started and winked at him, making him smile again.

 

     The lines were tedious more than time consuming. Jayce made his way around the circle, working from the outer left and working his way in. Dean grimaced from time to time, just ready for it to be over with and get back to his room. When Jayce finished up the last bit and started cleaning off Dean’s stomach, he was getting antsy and just wanted to get the hell out of there.  Jayce gave him all the ointment and care information, but he was intent on getting his beer. It wasn’t his first tattoo.  Dean thanked Jayce and tipped him, waving to the girl behind the counter after he pulled on his jacket.

     Stepping outside, they found the air was a little brisker and the sky was already dim. The darker days of fall had started creeping in. Dean led Cas a few doors down to the small bar he’d gone to shoot pool that first night Cas showed up at the bunker. The two sidled up to barstools and Dean ordered two beers. They drank it quickly, both ready to end the long day. Dean watched Cas drink his beer after he had finished his. He had the familiar itch of adrenaline and excitement after getting a tattoo lying under the surface of his bored exhaustion. He needed to do something to give him a thrill. Watching Cas’s mouth as he threw back the last of what was in his bottle, he was fixated on his lips. Warmth flushed over him and he felt like he was running on some animalistic instincts.

     “What?” Cas asked, confused at Dean’s wild stare.

     Without breaking eye contact with Cas, Dean paid for their drinks. His eyes were bright green, mischievous and intense, his devilish grin contagious. “Follow me,” Dean whispered to Cas. Dean led Cas back out to the parking lot, walking swiftly to where the bike was parked. Dean kept walking past it, Cas trailing him, pointing to the bike as if Dean would answer his unspoken question he posed with an unseen gesture. Dean rounded the corner to the back of the tattoo parlor. There was a closed off dumpster area between the tattoo parlor and the next shop over, and a small patio at the back door where Jayce had eaten his lunch. Jayce had taken off after working on Dean all day, and he figured the chances were low that someone would come out. His skin was prickling with excitement as he leaned back against the concrete wall of the building. If he had a cigarette, he’d probably smoke it.

     “What’s going on?” Cas wore a wary smile, taking in Dean’s state, unsure of what he was up to.

     Dean looked straight into Cas’s blue eyes, flickering with light. He leaned his head toward him, reaching up to take the nape of Cas’s neck in his hand.  Dean’s eyes darted from those blue eyes to his full lips and back. A hand touched Cas’s side, drawing him in to close the gap between them.  Cas stepped into the kiss, fervent from the start. Dean’s right hand squeezed Cas’s hip and pulled him even closer, letting him feel how hard Dean’s cock was for him, pressing through his jeans. Dean broke his lips away for a moment, looking Cas in the eyes and whispering to him.

     “Blow me, Cas.”

     Cas looked around. Dean nodded, as if promising that no one would come out the back door or round the corner of the building and catch them. Dean expected Cas to say no, not here, that they could wait until they got back to his room, but instead felt nimble fingers loosening his belt, unfastening his jeans. The zipper slowly went down, a hand taking hold of him, protecting him from the chill of the encroaching night. Dean closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall as Cas sunk down. He didn’t know if it was the rush from getting the tattoo that had him feeling everything with raw sensations, but even with the taste of Cas still on his lips, he felt the now familiar mouth caressing him. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t the best blow job of his life. He’d told Cas to blow him before; maybe he should have meant it. He’d been missing out. Dean ran a hand through Cas’s hair, lightly scratching at scruff behind his jaw. Dean muffled his own moans as Cas moved his mouth over the head of his cock in rapid succession, then took everything in to the back of his throat before alternating between sucking and rolling his tongue around his head. Dean’s gentle touching of Cas’s scruff quickly changed to gripping a handful of hair through his fingers, unconsciously pulling while slow fucking Cas’s mouth. His mind was preoccupied with being blank, otherwise it would have bothered him just how good Cas was at this. If Dean had been in the shower instead of against the wall on solid, dry ground, he was sure he would have collapsed onto the slick floor. Dean told Cas to stop, turning toward the alley as he came. He was slightly embarrassed at what he’d just done, but it felt too good to give it too much thought. Dean fixed his pants and turned to find Cas standing at the corner of the building, leaning his shoulder against the wall waiting. He took a deep breath and made his way to Cas, stopping just in front of him, mirroring his stance. His shoulder leaned in next to Cas’s, face to face with this scruffy angel he loved. A one-sided grin grew on his face, unable to look away from Cas’s eyes.  When he caught Cas looking down quickly to his mouth, Dean leaned in and caught his lips with his own. His hand moved up to hold Cas’s face, moving into the kiss with an overwhelming need. Dean lost himself in the kiss. Without the hovering presence of the bunker the world seemed to melt away. He bit Cas’s bottom lip gently, opening his eyes to look into Cas’s for a beat before he resumed feeding his all-consuming need for Cas. He didn’t stop kissing him until he started feeling a bit of beard burn on his face. He ran his lips along Cas’s cheekbone, kissing him once just under his eye before patting his cheek and nodding toward the bike.

     The ride home was cold, but the sting of the air felt good on his face. He felt alive. As he pulled onto the road, he wondered if anyone had been looking for them and for how long. He turned off the engine and waited for Cas to get off the bike. Dean stood and swung his leg back over, starting the push to the bunker entrance. The coolness of the air had brought down a fog, making it harder to see where they were walking once they were deeper down the wooded road. The footsteps on the road made a soft rhythm as they drew closer, the loud sound of crickets and other nighttime noises all around them.  Dean squinted, thinking he saw something in the road in front of them. He hit Cas’s chest with the back of his hand without saying anything or breaking eye contact with the figure ahead. Suddenly there was silence. Dean stopped, reaching out for Cas’s sleeve and tugging him back. The abruptness of the deafening quiet was unnerving, and the tall figure remained unmoving. 

     “I know you’re there,” Sam’s voice boomed, but it wasn’t Sam. 


	10. Making It Up As We Go

Dean’s stomach jumped up into his throat. He looked over at Cas, whose face paled from worried panic. They moved forward again, the fog lifting enough to see Sam standing twenty feet from the entrance, his eyes glowing blue. Isda was at his side. He hadn’t seen her until that moment, a hand gripping her throat, almost casually. Gadreel held an angel blade in the other, gripped like an asp, ready to use at any second. Tears rolled down Isda’s face, her eyes begging for forgiveness for an unknown transgression.

     “It’s okay, Isda. You’re alright,” Dean said softly, looking from Isda’s frightened face to Gadreel’s. Dean’s eyes were full of instant anger, his voice projecting his building rage. “He’s gonna let you go now.”

     “Why should I?” Gadreel asked. “She tricked Sam into false complacency while you were plotting against me. She’s guiltier than you all.”

     “Where are Charlie and Kevin?” Cas demanded. His fists clenched open and closed, feeling naked without a weapon in the face of danger.

     “Your other friends? Indisposed at the moment, brother,” Gadreel remarked, the snide comment dripping with disgust. “Using the prophet against me was a poor idea.”

     “What are you talking about?” Dean asked.

     “I saw the books. Sam. Sam saw the books, the research he was doing. Spells telling him how to expel an angel out of a vessel?”

Cas and Dean exchanged looks.

     “The prophet knew about my existence and was a threat. You must have brought it to his attention that something was amiss.”

     “Gadreel –“ Cas started.

     “Ezekiel,” the angel in Sam corrected.

     “I know you are not Ezekiel. Ezekiel never would have done such a thing, lying to obtain a vessel. Ezekiel was better than you.”

Gadreel chuckled, throwing Isda roughly to the ground with a flick Sam’s wrist. “That he was. That is why I chose him as my cover. And why you chose your vessel, no doubt.”

     “I obtained my vessel willingly and without deceit,” Cas defended.

     “Did you, brother?” Gadreel questioned.  “Did he know you would destroy his life, be killed again and again, make all the angels fall from heaven? Was he aware of your rebellious nature and your failing faith when he agreed to house an angel of the Lord and do your bidding?”

Cas said nothing.

     “Listen dickhead,” Dean said. He quickly looked to Isda who was watching the scene from the ground, backing slowly away from Gadreel. Cas rushed to her side. “Don’t try to turn this around on anyone. You’re the bad guy here.”

     “Am I, Dean?” Gadreel slowly stepped forward, casually flipping the angel blade in his hand as if it were only a butterfly knife.  “You’re the one that allowed me in with deception, and I’m healing your brother.  I am keeping him alive. All I want is to be strong enough to seek out a truer vessel and find a place in heaven. I bear you no ill will. But then I find that you are conspiring to cast me out? You Winchesters are not exactly known for leniency in casting judgment on those you feel have wronged you. Can you blame me for wanting to escape execution?”

     “Who said anything about killing you?” Dean laughed uncomfortably, then cocked his head to the side in thought and smiled. “Not that I wouldn’t mind doing so at this point because you’re a bit of a douche.”

     “See it’s that attitude that makes trusting you difficult.”

The angel in Sam’s body was uncomfortably close, but Dean pushed his luck. He scoffed.

     “You’re gonna talk to me about trust? Really?”

Gadreel had enough. He punched Dean in the face, making him stagger backward. He hit him again, causing him to fall to the ground. Gadreel kicked his side again and again, hard enough the third time to send Dean’s body skidding down the road. Dean slid ten feet across the pavement. He lifted his head, groaning and coughing up blood. He had heard his ribs crack. Gadreel raised the angel blade in his hand ready to strike Dean down. Without warning the blade was ripped from his hand, Cas moving between Gadreel and Dean, and in a swift movement he brandished the blade at Gadreel, pressing the tip onto his throat, nicking Sam’s skin. Gadreel only chuckled.

     “Cas,” Dean coughed. “No.”

     “Oh, you would not hurt the great Sam Winchester,” Gadreel taunted. “And it is very noble of you to stand in front of your charge, but do not think I will not strike you down as well, Castiel. Move out of my way.”

      Isda’s voice was suddenly just behind Gadreel, booming confidently a string of words that meant nothing to Dean. “CHRISTEOS OIAD LIT IRPOIL OL OIAD OD ANGELUS, DS NOSTOAH OIAD SIGILLUM DEI, BOGPA NETAAB LONCHO.”

Dean’s body ached. His bones made a terrible noise as they reset themselves, the blood stopped flowing from his head where he had hit the pavement. His stomach burned. He lifted his shirt to see light emanating from beneath the bandages covering his tattoo. The pain subsided, only dull aches remained. He stood slowly, first getting up on one knee, then standing up to face Gadreel.

     His voice quivered. “Get out. Of my brother.”

    “How did you do that?” Gadreel looked at Dean in amazement, confused. He started toward Dean, Cas distracted by Dean’s miraculous healing.

Dean stood firm, holding his hand up to stop Gadreel. To his surprise, he stopped moving, as if held back by an invisible barrier. Cas stared, not sure himself of what was unfolding.

     “I said. Get out. Of. My brother.”

Sam’s body twitched then went rigid, his face turning up toward the sky. His mouth opened and the ear piercing sound of angelic being rang out as the blue light flew forth from Sam. Once the light was gone, Sam collapsed to the ground, Dean rushing to his side to catch him.

     “Isda, help me,” he yelled. Isda rushed to his side. Dean grabbed her shoulder, pulling her down to cradle Sam into her lap. His hand felt electric, and Isda’s eyes shut tight.

     “Dean, what’s happening?” Cas asked, kneeling beside him.

     “Go find Charlie and Kevin,” he said to Cas, his uneasiness echoed in Cas’s face.  As Cas ran down to the bunker door, Dean turned to Isda. “What the hell was that?” She didn’t speak, her eyes fluttering back and forth beneath her eyelids. “Isda. ISDA!” Dean shook her shoulder, finally letting her go. As his hand left her shoulder, her eyes opened wide, glowing soft blue. “What the hell?” he whispered, startled as he stared into the light radiating from her eyes. They dimmed, and returned to normal, a soft green.  “Isda what is going on?” Dean demanded.

      Isda just looked at him, her face serious. “Let’s get Sam inside, Dean.”

Dean wanted answers, but couldn’t argue. He pulled Sam up off the ground, and the two carried Sam into the bunker. It was difficult getting him down the stairs, but Dean wasn’t huffing as much as he thought he would be, and Isda was pulling a surprising amount of weight. They got Sam to his room and lay him out in bed, Isda curling up against the headboard, resting Sam’s head in her lap again.

     Once they were settled, Dean looked at Isda. “Explain.”

     “I just…I said ‘ _Let he with vision of God and Angels, who has the Sigillum Dei, rule over all’_. It was a shot. And it worked. Amazingly so. Look at what you’ve done!”

     “So you just…activated the sigil or something?” Dean asked.

     “Yes, I guess so,” Isda said, beaming.

     “And you couldn’t go-go-gadget the fucking sigil before I was getting beaten to death by an angel?” Dean shouted in a whisper. 

     “I didn’t know you had the sigil on you! I saw the bandages under your shirt when you flew across the road. Your shirt came up a bit. I remembered Kevin mentioning it as a last resort, so I thought if I invoked it….”

     “You mean you didn’t even know if it would _work_?”

     “Aren’t we just making this up as we go?” Isda asked, a smile brightening her face.

      Dean rolled his eyes. He pointed at her as he got up. “You just help Sam.”

     “As you wish,” she said with a hint of sarcasm.

     “You need to stop hanging out with Charlie,” Dean muttered as he left the room. He walked up and down the halls, yelling for Cas. He finally heard a voice calling back in a far corridor.

     “Dean! In here!”

Dean ran around the corner at the end of the hall and found a room with the door open. He went through the door and found Cas and Kevin untying Charlie. Kevin had a black eye, and Charlie had a bump on her head that was starting to bruise. Dean went to Charlie as they finished untying her from a post next to the radiator, a pink burn from the proximity to the heat on her arm.

     He brushed away the hair from her face and lovingly kissed her forehead. “Charlie? Charlie you gotta wake up for me okay?” Dean said, lightly patting her face. She stirred and opened her eyes.

    “Sam’s not Sam,” she whispered.

     “Yeah, we know,” Dean said. “But he’s back to being Sam now. The guy that hurt you and Kevin? That guy is gone.” He turned to Cas. “Isda’s with Sam. I need to get back to him. You got this?”

     “Yeah, I got this.” Cas nodded for Dean to go.

Dean made his way back down the maze of hallways taking what felt like forever to find himself in familiar territory. When he reached Sam’s room, Isda was still cradling Sam’s head, petting his hair. He was conscious. Dean pulled out the chair from his desk, setting it next to the bed and grabbed his brother’s hand.

     “Hey Sammy, you okay?” he said softly.

Sam’s eyes fluttered and opened wide. “Dean? What happened?”

Dean let out a heavy sigh. A lot had happened. “Well, the good news is, I don’t need to pray for you because you have your own little angel right here.” He smiled at Isda.

     “And the important thing is that you are going to be just fine.” Isda’s voice was much stronger. “Your brother saved you.” Her delicate fingers ran through Sam’s hair in smooth repetition, making it hard for Sam to keep his eyes open.

     “Look at you, like a dog getting groomed. You look like you’ll fall asleep any second.”

     “I might,” Sam admitted. “So, what happened? One minute I was checking on Kevin then everything went black. It was like I was having a nightmare. Choking Isda, trying to kill you. Then I woke up here.”

Dean shifted in the chair, letting go of Sam’s hand and wiping his palms on his knees. He started from the beginning, explaining the dire situation of Sam’s condition, Ezekiel’s plan to heal Sam, Cas realizing Ezekiel wasn’t who he said he was, and everyone’s effort to get Sam back to being just Sam. He was angry at first, but too weak to yell or leave, so Sam had to sit through the explanation and hear Dean out. Isda helped, chiming in with how brave Dean was standing up to Gadreel.

     Dean finished the story and shrugged. “That’s it.”

    “That’s it?” Sam huffed in anger, then coughed and winced. “Well, let me see this sigil thing.” Dean looked surprised Sam was even talking to him. “You’re not off the hook. I’m pissed. But since I can’t beat the shit out of you right now – and apparently I did that already today – let me see the damn sigil.” Dean raised his eyebrows. “It sounds kinda cool,” Sam muttered under his breath. His brother smiled.

Dean stood and lifted his shirt, surprised at the lack of pain in his muscles. He picked at the edges of the tape pressed over the gauze. Peeling away the tape from his skin, Dean looked at the fresh tattoo and saw it healed.

     “Holy shit.”

     “What?” Sam and Isda said.

     Cas knocked at the door with Charlie and Kevin behind him. “Can we come in?”

     “Yeah, of course,” Dean said. “Do me a favor and get me a towel from the bathroom – and wet it, would you?”  Cas nodded and went to get the towel. Charlie and Kevin edged into the room.

     “Hey Sam,” Charlie sang uncomfortably, waving her hand slightly even though he couldn’t see her at the angle she was standing.

     “Charlie, Kevin, I’m so sorry,” Sam started.

     “Stop,” Kevin interrupted. “It wasn’t you.”

     “Still,” Sam mumbled.

Cas returned with the towel and handed it to Dean. Their hands brushed and for a second Dean forgot everything and smiled at Cas. He returned the grin and nodded back down to Dean’s stomach, bringing him back to the present. Dean finished peeling away the bandage and tape, dabbing his middle with the wet towel, wiping off the ointment and excess ink. His skin wasn’t even slightly puffed. Everything was surprisingly healed.

     “What the fuck,” he whispered.

     “How did it do that?” Kevin asked.

     “That’s impressive,” Charlie put in. “What is it?” Everyone looked at her, forgetting that she and Sam were the only ones not in the loop. “What?”

     “Isda said some angel words and it lit up like she powered on an arc reactor.”

     “It gave him powers over Gadreel. He stopped him mid-step and forced him out of Sam on command. Then he touched me and healed me as well. And now I can heal Sam.” Isda smiled. “It will take a few days, but I think I can get him back to working order.” She leaned down and kissed his forehead. Sam received it with a smile, then looked flustered when he remembered they weren’t alone.

      “So you’re like, some angel Jedi Paladin?” Charlie asked, her eyes wide with excitement. “That is so cool. What else can you do?”

      Dean rolled his eyes and put his shirt down. “I’m not magic. Wait, am I?” he asked Isda.

      “You have the Sigil of Ameth. You have control all creatures save archangels.”

      “Like mind control?” Kevin asked.

      “Maybe just angels. But I’ll use my powers for good, I swear,” Dean said, holding his hands up to Isda.

      She smiled and her eyes lit up as if she were proud of Dean. “You healed me, and I trust you. You’re now an angelic weapon of sorts, I supposed. You won’t be able to heal humans, but you can invoke angels to do so.  I’m not sure what power you would have over demons, but my assumption would be that the outcome would be similar.”

      “Not gonna lie. I’m a little freaked out.” Dean surveyed the room, and everyone was staring at him with looks of awe, and an open-mouthed gape of ‘ _what in the hell do we do now?’_ plastered on Sam’s face. This gave them an upper hand, and not one that had a high failure potential. That was new. “Okay we’ve all had a rough day. I say we get something to eat, relax, maybe just act normal for a night.”

      “Like there’s not an angel keeping watch over Sam to heal his burned out internal organs from a ritual that I, a prophet of the Lord, deciphered to close the gates of hell, and you aren’t a walking weapon of heaven in a hush-hush relationship with a fallen angel who shot all the angels out of heaven like one of those champagne poppers who all may or may not be looking for us to seek out revenge?” Kevin blurted. “Sure. Why not,” he shrugged. “I’ll go warm up some burritos.” He turned and started to leave.

      “Hey Kev, wait up,” Dean called, jumping up to follow him. “I got this. I’ll cook us something. A real meal.” He looked to Sam and up to Isda. “Do you think he can manage hanging out in the kitchen or library area…or is he bed bound?”

      “I think if you help me get him there, we’ll be fine.”

Dean helped Sam up, and he and Isda walked with him to the kitchen, everyone else trailing behind them. Charlie rushed over to her iPod and put it in the docking base, scrolling through until she found a playlist. Dean and Isda slid Sam onto the table in the library with a perfect view of the kitchen, Isda resuming her place at Sam’s head.

      “Is that like, a necessary thing?”

      “No, I suppose not. But it is comforting. For me at least.” Isda blushed. “It makes it easy to heal him if he’s relaxed, and Sam seems to like me touching his hair.”

      “It is comforting,” Sam said softly with a smile.

      “Aw, look at you two.” Dean batted his eyelashes playfully.

      “Shut up, Dean.”

Dean popped back on his heels and turned to the kitchen to cook his family a meal as “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” came through the speakers, filling the bunker with life.


	11. And You Shook Me

Charlie bopped around the kitchen, hitting Kevin with her hip until he grinned and returned the friendly hip bump. Once she had him smiling, she moved on to Cas, taking his hand and making him twirl her. She sang in a spatula to Dean, “If you ever need, a helping hand, I’ll be there on the double,” and he joined in reluctantly with “just as fast as I can.” But Charlie’s mood was infectious. He kissed the top of her head and shooed her away. He hummed the chorus while the pan drizzled with olive oil warmed on the stove, feeling invigorated and happy. Charlie moved on to Sam and Isda, sliding up on the table next to her friends.

      “I always wanted to have one of those singing friends dancing in the kitchen moments,” she said.

Kevin pulled ingredients as Dean called them out. He diced chicken and Cas set a pot to boil for the penne.  When Dean had everything going, Kevin joined Charlie and the others in the library while they decided on a movie to put up on the projector. Cas had put on the pasta, and now all they had to do was wait.  Dean turned the chicken down to simmer and felt his hips subtly moving to “The Piña Colada Song.” He felt a tug on his belt loops and Cas’s body pressed up against his. He chuckled as he braced himself on the stove.

      “I’ve had my ribs cracked and my body and face bruised and bloody. Don’t try to burn me too,” he said, turning to Cas. He moved to the side as he turned to rest his back on the counter away from the heat. Cas hooked his belt loops again, pulling Dean’s pelvis toward his. “Cas, you tease.”

      “Oh, I’m not teasing,” Cas said. He tried to be serious, but his face broke into a wide smile.

      Dean glanced over at everyone in the library, then back to Cas. “You don’t care?”

     “Why would I care?” he asked. “Kevin apparently knows from what he said earlier. Sam knows. Charlie definitely knows. And even if they didn’t, why would I care?”

      Dean shifted, unsure of himself for a moment before saying, “Fuck it.” He caught Cas’s mouth with his, not even easing in with a simple chaste kiss. His hand pulled gently at the back of Cas’s neck, wishing somehow he could be even closer. He breathed Cas in, his stomach fluttering. He pulled away satisfied with a smile. “I’m going to let you do things later.”

     “Is that so?” Cas stifled a laugh.

     Sam called from the other room with as much voice as he could muster, “Get a room you two. _After_ I get food.”

     Cas released Dean’s belt loops and squinted at him. “Your ass is mine.”

     “You know it,” Dean said with a wink. He balled up a kitchen towel and threw it at Cas, hitting him in the chest. He drained the pasta and put honey on the chicken, letting it cook just a bit longer while Cas put Italian dressing on the penne and got plates ready.

Once the chicken was mixed in with the penne, Dean plated the food and called Charlie and Kevin over to help take everything to the table. Charlie ferried glasses of water over, and Cas helped Isda get Sam off the table and into a chair. Sam looked embarrassed but couldn’t deny the help. He winced and made a pained sound as he slid the chair forward. He cleared his throat, hoping no one had heard him. The six of them sat around the table, smiling at each other.

     “Well dig in,” Dean said.

 

 

 

After the dishes were done, Isda came to Dean in the kitchen and asked if she could speak with him. He nodded, dried his hands on the towel he had launched at Cas earlier.

     “What’s up?”

     “Your demeanor has completely changed with me.”

      Dean looked up at the ceiling and puffed his lips. “Well, to be honest, trusting isn’t really my forte, so when you showed up here with Cas, I was iffy. But, now you’ve risked your life and saved ours, which kind of makes you family. Just like Kevin and Charlie here.  And I’m pretty sure – just going out on a limb here – but I think Sam likes you.”

      “I can sense that now.” Isda blushed, her face more relaxed and much brighter than it had been since she arrived. “I feel good here. I’ve never had a home, or a family like this, but I like it very much.”

     “Well you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.” Dean narrowed his eyes at her.  “Unless you scratch my car or hurt my brother. Then your ass is gone.”

      Isda giggled. “Fair enough.”

 

The group settled in for a movie, but when Dean saw it was some slow-paced indie flick he hit Cas on the leg and gestured with his head to the hall. Cas nodded, and Dean stood up ceremoniously stretching and declaring he’d had a rough day and was headed to bed. Everyone said goodnight, having fully expected the two to cut out early. Charlie was sitting cross legged on the table braiding Isda’s hair. Isda’s chair faced the projector, with Sam’s sitting close to hers. Kevin played a game on his phone. Dean looked at his family, and it felt good having a group like this on his side. Cas hooked the back of Dean’s pants with his finger and started dragging him backward until Dean turned and followed. He watched Cas walking down the hall to his room, as impatient as Cas was for the two of them to be alone.

The sound of the door locking behind them was the sweetest sound. The click meant that they were alone. No one would interrupt. There were no emergencies. They were safe. Everyone was okay, or at least going to be. The freedom from the weight that had been straining Dean came with such relief that he wasn’t sure if his skin was actually tingling or if this was what happiness felt like. Cas took off the hoodie and his shoes and socks, swinging his arms around and moving his neck to get kinks knocked out. He breathed in and out deeply and crawled into bed, the rest of his clothes still on.

     “What are you doing?” Dean asked.

     “Come lay with me for a minute.”

Dean obliged, shrugging and removing his own shoes and socks before curling up beside Cas. When they were face to face, Dean found his eyes drifting to every feature he loved – the crinkles in the corners of his eyes and how they deepened when he smiled, his scruff that was unwieldy at this point, and how striking his eyes were.  But in this moment, he couldn’t get past his lips. Cas was looking at Dean too, admiring his freckles and eyelashes, but was interrupted with Dean’s lips on his. It was a subtle touch, barely grazing Cas’s mouth. Dean could feel the warmth of his own breath reflecting back at him. His hand rested at the familiar spot behind Cas’s head, his thumb running across his face just under Cas’s eye from nose to cheekbone. He kissed the place where his thumb had started, running his mouth down the side of Cas’s face, feeling the prickling of his hair as his breath drew a line from temple to chin. Cas took his chance to return the gesture in his own way, brushing Dean’s eyebrow with his middle finger, just the vague sensation of a touch. He kissed Dean’s neck, laying a trail up the underside of his jaw until he landed on his lips, kissing him quietly. Dean pushed his tongue into Cas’s mouth so shallow, slowly licking between his parted lips. Cas couldn’t take the teasing any more. He grabbed the back of Dean’s thigh with his hand, gripping tight and hitching his leg up over his. H kissed Dean deeply, reaching back and running his hand through Dean’s hair, pulling it back as his felt his body grinding against Dean’s. Dean was caught off guard by the sudden need for him Cas was showing, but before he could even think about how hot it was he felt himself start to throb. Before long they both had to break away.

       “Starting to hurt?” Dean asked. Cas nodded.

They pulled off their jeans, feet furiously kicking at the bottom of the bed, racing to get back to where they were. Dean felt Cas’s cock as it rubbed against his stomach when they kissed. He sat up and had Cas move back against the headboard, seated. Dean shimmied belly-down on the bed, moving his left arm under Cas’s thigh. He gripped Cas tight in his hand, rolling the slick bead that had gathered on the tip. Cas was already breathing heavy, his hand running through Dean’s now messy hair. Dean pushed his lips over Cas’s head and tasted the slight tinge of salt as he rolled his tongue around before taking it all in his mouth. He felt Cas grip tight onto this hair as he bobbed up and down, his hand moving away from and toward his mouth in an ever increasing rhythm. Cas grasped at the bed sheets. Dean looked up to see Cas’s teeth bared, animalistic as he started fucking Dean’s mouth. Dean moved his other arm so both cradled Cas, letting him us his grip on his hair as a handle. Suddenly Cas stopped, tapping Dean to get up.

     “Holy shit Cas, you okay?” Dean asked, wiping his mouth. A sweat ring was starting to show at Cas’s collar.

     “Take off your shirt,” Cas said, smiling.

      Dean stood at the foot of the bed with a smile, his dick bouncing off his stomach.  “If I’m stripping, I’m putting on music.” He went to his dresser and set up his iPod, searching for a song.  A moment later, the sound of AC/DC ripped through the room. He bobbed his head to the beat, turning to Cas. He pulled his shirt over his head and remembered his tattoo. “Hey, aren’t I supposed to be able to control all creatures?”

     “Not me. Not anymore. No longer an angel, remember?”

     “No you’re not,” Dean laughed. “So I can’t invoke you to do my bidding?”

      Cas’s face grew serious. “Dean, you know I always come when you call.” The two stared at each other for only seconds before busting out into laughter.

     “Wait, wait,” Dean said. “You hear this song?” Cas nodded and smiled. “Well this is what you’re gonna do to me tonight, I’m sure, with that look you had in your eyes earlier.” He swung his shirt over his head and threw it at the wall, pointing to Cas and mouthing the words to the song.

_Cause the walls were shaking, the earth was quaking_

_My mind was aching and we were making it_

_And you shook me all night long_

                Cas laughed and pulled Dean onto the bed, kissing him hard. Dean couldn’t have asked for a better end to all of this mess. His rag-tag family of misfits was together in the bunker, safe. Sam was taken care of and had a new friend looking out for him. He finally had a place to call home. And he had Cas.

This one would be a night for the books.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long to finish, but I hope you enjoy it now that it's done. Sincerest apologies. I hope those of you who I included little things for enjoy the nods. Thank you for not throwing things at me for taking forever to write while I worked on a hundred other projects that were time sensitive.


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